


Shadows of Things That Have Been

by DrNeverland



Series: Of Things That May Be Only 'Verse [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Humor, M/M, Past Character Death, Post Advent Children, Post Dirge of Cerberus, Reincarnation, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:06:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 80,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrNeverland/pseuds/DrNeverland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Sephiroth has decided he will stick with his lot in life and not look to visions of the future, Cid and Vincent begin to research the past, to hopefully find answers about Genesis and the project that begot them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shadows of Things That Have Been

**Author's Note:**

> Starts out pretty Valenwind-y at the beginning, but I'm sure you guys saw that coming.   
> Takes place at least a month after the close of "Of Things That May Be Only."

Cid and Vincent had gone to Nibelheim with one purpose: fulfill Cloud’s request that they research the Jenova Project and all involved with it. Since it had been the place where Sephiroth had discovered what Hojo had left there for him, Cloud decided it was their best – if only – resource for information.

It hadn’t surprised Cid, when they rolled up on his 4x4, that the town had been deserted. Without a need to fulfill ShinRa’s cover-up plan and the reactor being a defunct relic, people had slowly meandered away, either south or west, toward Rocket Town. While he had no problems with their work being uninterrupted, Cid still felt a sense of unease while they were there. Each morning broke with only distant bird song and howling winds coming down from the mountain. Every night was chilly and the gusts simply got worse to bear in the night. Even with all the windows shuttered in the house they borrowed, Cid still felt uncomfortable.

It made him wonder how Vincent had stood being in that basement for almost thirty years without losing his mind.

In the weeks since their arrival, it had taken the two of them most of their time to gather fallen papers and water damaged books; In between, they had to swat away curious beasts that thought Cid or Vincent might make a decent meal. Whatever they thought could be salvaged was boxed up. Anything that looked like it had been soaked through by Mako, Vincent handled and placed in a metal box he found in another room of the abandoned mansion.

Talk was in short supply, thanks to Vincent’s task-focused mind that kept Cid from most conversation. Cid didn’t think he’d be able to make much conversation with Vincent anyway. The ex-Turk was a solitary and private person. While Cid liked to think they’d gotten a little closer during the events of the Deepground attacks, Cid realized he was simply more mystified than ever over Vincent Valentine. It was hard to hold a discussion about what someone might even enjoy when his references were thirty years out of date and he spent most of his time studying the Planet, not catching up to everyone else. It did little to quell his fascination with Vincent, though.

Cid realized he had been staring when Vincent stopped pacing beside him and looked to where Cid was crouched on top of an overturned crate while he sorted loose papers from torn books and binders. “Yes?”

“You okay?” asked Cid. That was a safe topic to start with, anyway. They were in the home of the “End of Vincent Valentine’s Life As He Knew It,” after all. Cid gestured around them, to the moldy laboratory and the vague sense of despair seeped into rusting equipment. “I mean…”

“I’m fine, thank you,” said Vincent. He started to turn away again when Cid shivered involuntarily. The damp basement had him in his jacket at all times, while Vincent had actually removed his heavy cloak in hopes of not gathering dust on it while he passed by artifacts of his own history. “Are you?”

“It’s cold as fuck down here, is all. Dunno how Tifa an’ Cloud stand it, but at least I get why they don’t hardly wear sleeves in Edge. Must be like Costa del Sol to them,” commented Cid. He pulled his jacket a little tighter around himself.

Vincent surprised Cid with a response. “What would that make the actual Costa del Sol?” he asked.

Cid looked up at the ceiling and its myriad spider webs above his head before he answered with a snort. “Probably feels like Ifrit’s asshole to them.” He grinned and looked back at Vincent, whose eyes were a little wide at Cid’s crass comment.

“…That’s a vivid image.”

Cid chuckled and pointed at Vincent. “Hey, you’re the one picturin’ Ifrit’s asshole, buddy. Not me.”

Vincent looked down at the book in his hands and blithely turned a page as he started to pace away from Cid. “You’re the one who keeps mentioning the anatomy of Summons. One might conclude you have a one-track mind,” he said dryly.

It took Cid’s mind a moment to catch up to Vincent’s wry sense of humor, and when he did, he started to laugh. “Oh yeah? Name another time, then.” He leaned over the box he had been sorting; desperate as he was to make conversation with Vincent, this reminder of Vincent’s deadpan wit was a great distraction from the mind-numbing chore.

Vincent did not disappoint. Still with his eyes on the thick tome in his hands, Vincent strode back toward Cid and replied, “When we arrived, you commented that it was, and I quote, ‘colder than Shiva’s tits.’” He looked up to meet eyes with Cid and the corner of his mouth twitched in a repressed smirk. The warm red of his eyes sparked orange, like soft candlelight, before he turned his gaze away once more.

Cid grinned at Vincent’s sharp memory, but felt a personal victory in seeing such an expression on his friend. As much Vincent might have denied it, Cid took it as proof-positive that Vincent’s emotions hadn’t all rotted away in his sleep. Vincent simply guarded himself much more carefully than the rest of their team. It was part of what Cid found fascinating about him. There wasn’t a thing on the Planet, man or machine, that Cid didn’t think he could take apart, it was all a question of angles. Vincent was certainly a challenge, had been for a very long time, but every encounter with him, Cid got to peel back just a little of the mysterious veneer and see the man underneath.

Interested more in the little smirk now than what they had been working on for days, Cid got to his feet again with a grunt and a crack of his spine. He twisted his torso back and forth and gave himself a thorough stretch across his shoulders before he clapped his hands together loud enough to make Vincent look up at him again. “I’m bored as hell and getting hungry. Why don’tcha plop that down in the ‘To Go’ box and we’ll get the hell outta here?”

Vincent paused and began to turn away. “You may leave if you wish. I think I would rather stay and seek out more relevant information.” He hunched his shoulders up a little as he continued to walk off, toward the office part of the lab. He stopped when Cid clasped a hand over his shoulder and made Vincent turn around again.

The fact that Vincent could have ignored or even shrugged Cid away was not lost on Cid. Vincent was exponentially stronger than Cid could ever hope to be, and that he moved into Cid’s gentle pull said something. “What” was said was still open to interpretation.

“Hey, come with me to the house, awright? If you wanna bring your book, fine by me, but don’t make me go alone,” said Cid. He swallowed a bit when Vincent looked him over and gave his request consideration. When Vincent nodded and murmured a soft “alright,” Cid patted Vincent’s shoulder and backed away to give him enough space to do whatever he wanted. It made Cid just a little giddy that Vincent left the book behind when he gathered his cloak around him once more as they left the lab.

 

Back at the house, Cid made up dinner from what they’d caught along the mountain paths closest to the town. Life in Rocket Town had given Cid’s palate a little bend toward old Nibel recipes passed from residents who had managed to cross over the mountains; a complete roasting of wild rabbit managed to break down a good deal of whatever Mako the animal might have been exposed to and kept it from tasting off.

When dinner was plated up and served, Cid tried to avoid watching Vincent while they ate. The other man was cautious about how he ate to the point of almost being delicate with the food on his plate; Cid had to wonder if it was an old habit, a “Turk Thing” or relatively new.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Vincent, just before a bit of roast rabbit disappeared between his lips – and that was when Cid realized he had been staring.

Cid coughed and looked down at his plate as if it was going to help him out of this. “Just wonderin’ if you’re enjoying your meal,” he said. He knew it was a horrible cop out, and that Vincent was much too smart – on top of being a trained interrogator – to fall for a paltry response.

However, Vincent just gave Cid a reprieve when he answered, “It’s very good. Thank you,” before he resumed his meal.

Cid put down his fork and just rubbed at the back of his head. “I know you know I was starin’. Ya can call me on my weird shit, yanno. I shouldn’t be makin’ ya uncomfor-“

“I would be quite the hypocrite if I called any of your shit ‘weird,’ Cid.” Vincent put down his own fork for a sip of his tea. He licked his lips and Cid couldn’t catch himself before his eyes locked on Vincent’s tongue, which made him stare at Vincent’s _mouth_ again, and then Cid noticed it quirked into a restrained smile. Vincent bridged his hands in front of his face so that his mouth was summarily blocked from Cid’s view and just observed him. A spark of that warm candlelight glow flickered in Vincent’s eyes again. A spot of mirth on the face of a man who claimed that all his feelings had died.

“You did that on purpose!” shouted Cid. “You’re…” Cid huffed and looked down at his plate. “You’ve been readin’ me like one a them damn books, ain’tcha?” he said. His shoulders slumped and he turned sideways in his seat. The whole time, he felt Vincent’s eyes follow him. “G’won then. Make fun. Tell me I’m a damned fool. Gimme one a yer lectures.”

Vincent dropped his hands to the table and levered himself forward. “Cid, I do not think you’re a fool. You’re a very spirited man, very passionate about the things you pursue, even if they seem impossible. Which is why I could not discourage your feelings for me if I tried.” He paused and waited for Cid to speak.

“Am I that damned obvious?”

“Somewhat,” admitted Vincent. “Lifting your head, even slightly, when I walked across your path, was what cemented my conclusion.”

Cid gaped and pointed. “That’s why you took yer cloak off! So I could stare at yer ass!”

“And you did.”

“Well.” Cid turned back and imitated Vincent’s position. He leaned closer to Vincent, who sat upright and opened the space between them. Cid tried to not take it as an insult – Vincent’s heart had been broken badly already, on top of everything else that had gone wrong in his life. He could empathize with Vincent’s reluctance. Not to mention Cid had no idea if he was even into men. “I won’t try to molest you or nothin’… you’d be able to claw my face off without even trying.” He leaned back himself and finished his own cup of tea. “It’s a nice ass, though.”

“I could,” agreed Vincent. “And thank you.”

“Where do we go from here? Is this gonna make you feel… weird? Knowin’ I kinda got a thing for ya?”

“I trust you well enough to not initiate something that may not be reciprocated.” Vincent leaned back in his chair; the dry wood gave a soft creak with his weight. “Will it be a distraction for you? You have already let your mind wander a few times.”

Cid snorted and leaned back in his own chair, further than Vincent, so the front legs came off the floor. “You know it ain’t daydreamin’. My mind don’t wanna shut up sometimes. I need to keep moving, keep myself working.” He pulled a cigarette out of the pack in his shirt pocket and pointed the unlit end at Vincent. “I mean, even studyin’ like the huge nerd that I am, I had to take a movement break.”

Vincent hummed softly and glanced out the window of the kitchen, toward the old mountain peak. Somewhere among the spires of rock, the Nibel Reactor sat, possibly overgrown and rusted. He glanced back at Cid when Cid lit his cigarette. “Perhaps we should take a break from research, then,” he suggested.

Cid took a drag as he considered what that entailed. “You mean goin’ up there?” he asked, voice cracked as he tried to hold in the smoke. He blew out and let the cigarette hang loose from his lips. “Worth a shot. Maybe, at least, to make sure there ain’t Jenova bits left behind. If there are, we torch her alien ass.”

“Rufus _should_ have gotten what remained before the Remnant Event happened, but it is possible. But… Sephiroth mentioned that he had a vision.” Vincent paused and stood from his seat to collect his gauntlet and his cloak. “Lucrecia had visions, too. Jenova-induced visions.”

And just like that, Cid was on his feet and right behind Vincent. The dishes could be handled when they got back, if Vincent had a hunch about something.

 

They said very little to each other on the way out of town; it was hard to, when Vincent had gotten ahead of Cid by way of his long legs and supernatural ability to spring over surfaces like a bouncy ball. Once Cid had caught up to Vincent, he snagged the gunslinger’s long cloak before he could get any further ahead.

“Stop doin’ that!” begged Cid. “You an’ Cloud tend to forget that some of us are still friggin’ human!” He huffed and patted his pockets for his pack. Before he could light one up, Vincent turned and peered over the top of his cowl.

“I’m aware of your humanity, Cid. And my own lacking.” Vincent turned and pulled the cigarette from his lips. Cid looked up at Vincent, part affronted that Vincent would steal one of his smokes, but part intimidated because Vincent stood really close to him.

Cid gulped and put a hand on Vincent's chest. He found that Vincent would not move back as he expected and stood still, rooted to the ground. “I don’t mean ya ain’t human, sweetheart. I just mean I ain’t got any enhancements ta keep up with you.” He pushed on Vincent’s chest again and sighed when Vincent remained rooted to the spot. “I’m sorry, okay!”

“You have no reason to apologize,” said Vincent, and Cid remained mystified. Vincent held the cigarette up near Cid’s lips, which he carefully took from Vincent’s gloved fingers with his mouth. Vincent’s gaze lifted away from Cid’s eyes and up into the rocks that surrounded them. Cid started to turn away to see what Vincent looked for when he froze suddenly.

Vincent’s hand had snaked around to Cid’s back pocket and pulled out his lighter. Cid thanked whatever form of divine providence that he put his lighter back there, but still was lost on _why_ Vincent was suddenly interested in feeding his habit. Vincent wordlessly flicked open the metal casing and lit the end of his cigarette. From the hand going around Cid to his first puffs of smoke, Vincent had locked eyes on him. Then Vincent’s hands were on his shoulders and pulled him close. Cid sucked in a deep breath and nearly dropped ashes on Vincent’s mantle as he leaned in, mouth near enough to Cid’s ear that he felt the heat from his breath over his skin.

“We’re being followed.”

Cid coughed and dropped his cigarette out of his mouth to put itself out on the damp mountain path. _He needed me to shut up… damn sneaky bastard…_ thought Cid as he felt Vincent’s cloak start to envelop him from the winds that blew down the mountain. How anyone could follow them without their notice was the biggest worry. Nibelheim was a ghost town. Anyone coming in should have been spotted or heard – unless their stalker had snuck into the town when they were in the ShinRa basement.

“What’s the play?” he whispered back. He turned enough toward Vincent to feel his stubble-dusted jaw brush the smooth porcelain of Vincent’s face. Vincent didn’t even seem to notice the contact as he kept himself perfectly still.

“Shh…” Vincent looked at Cid, but their eyes didn’t meet exactly. Cid held his breath and tried to listen with Vincent, but most he could hear was eerie howling around them. No sounds of feet or any sort of vehicle.

Just the wind.

It was that sound that Vincent must have picked apart, because Cid felt his ass hit the rocky ground beneath him as Vincent shoved him down in the same motion that he leapt to the air. Cid could only see a flash of red and black as Vincent met… another flash of red and black with a metallic bang and a small shower of sparks.

Cid scrambled to his feet and pulled up his spear as Vincent landed hard enough to leave grooves in the earth. He looked up at the intruder, who still hung in mid-air, and nearly threw his spear at the bastard’s face.

“You’re that fucker who electrocuted me back in Ajit!” shouted Cid. “It takes more than that to finish off a Highwind, ya daffy shit! The fuck do you want here?!”

“Provoking him would not be a wise choice,” said Vincent, though his gun was drawn and trained on Genesis. The man above them simply flapped his black wing idly, as if he decided on what to do with them.

“ _Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess,”_ was Genesis’ mild reply to Cid’s coarse question. He seemed to ignore Vincent.

Cid was unimpressed. “Yeah, well get her here too, an’ I’ll shish-ka-bob the both of you!” he shouted. He ran toward a boulder underneath where Genesis hovered and used it to kick off of the ground, spear held up as he got close. Genesis turned into the thrust and dodged it. He grabbed Venus Gospel with one hand and lifted upward to bring Cid closer.

“You were saying?” he asked as he let Cid dangle from his own weapon.

Cid swung his legs up and latched them around Genesis’ midsection. Genesis twisted in surprise as Cid grappled him, even gave up his hold on Venus Gospel in an attempt to pry Cid off. Instead, Cid latched his arms around Genesis’ neck like a monkey and squeezed with all four limbs.

Genesis struck at him with the hilt of his sword, but with Cid curled tight around him, it was hard to get a proper strike in. They began to lose altitude as Genesis thrashed and smacked Cid about the head and shoulders.

“Unhand me, you unclean bastard!” shouted Genesis. “We’ll both fall!”

“Good! I owe ya for lightin’ my ass up!” screamed Cid in reply, as loud as he could and right into Genesis’ ear. Genesis got a hand on Cid’s face and pushed at him. When that failed, he began to slap at Cid’s head, the leather of his gloves making a comically loud noise.

“Fuck you, you overgrown bat!” shouted Cid. He refused to relent until he felt an intense heat at his sides. A flare of Fire magic exploded between them and Cid was knocked away from Genesis. He braced for impact on the hard rocks when Vincent grabbed him from the air and landed, gracefully on top of the boulder Cid nearly crashed into.

“That was foolish,” reprimanded Vincent as he set Cid on his feet. “May I?”

Cid gestured at Genesis, whose body smoked with the heat of his own magic. “Be my guest, sweetheart.”

Genesis remained aloft and cast another Fire spell at them. This time, Vincent intercepted the blast, and came through the ball of fire with Death Penalty drawn. He fired off rounds in bursts of three at Genesis, who deflected the shots with his crimson sword.

_“All that awaits you is a somber morrow!”_ yelled Genesis, as he swooped down toward Vincent and the two met in mid-air once more. From his vantage point, Cid could only see a swirl of red and black, with flames and gunshot flare rising out of the blur. Feathers and bits of charred fabric floated toward the ground.

“Kick his ass, Vinnie! Claw his nuts off!” shouted Cid. He winced when he fist-pumped the air; Genesis’ Fire spell had left his skin raw and body sore. But he did not intend for Vincent to fight alone. Once he saw an opening, Cid bounded across the highest boulders and vaulted himself upward. He clenched his hands tight around Venus Gospel as he surged up and felt the end of his spear meet flesh.

Genesis gave a cry of anger and pain as Cid’s spear went right up and through his belly, a few inches of the tip glistening with blood. Vincent pushed off of Genesis so he fell toward the ground on his face; he pulled Cid off of their enemy and wrapped them both in his cloak.

Cid felt a chill go through his body as he experienced the strange lightness of being carried away like a living fog. It was short lived as Vincent had landed on his feet and stooped to make sure Cid could stand. A distance from them, Genesis carefully got to his feet again. The black wing had vanished, and he held onto his injured midsection with his free hand.

“What do you want from us?” demanded Vincent. He put himself between Genesis and Cid in case the ex-SOLDIER tried to pull another stunt like in Ajit.

_“When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end, the goddess descends from the sky…wings of light and dark spread afar… She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting.”_

Cid nearly lost it at Genesis’ infuriatingly cryptic responses. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?! Stop speaking in poems, you damned loon!”

“The beast of war returns to the Planet. I seek to end the reign of the so-called Goddess he serves,” replied Genesis. He staggered on his feet, but the fact that he remained had Cid curious as to what he knew and why he was willing to share.

Vincent interrupted Cid’s thoughts as he reloaded Death Penalty and pointed it at Genesis again. “Sephiroth. You plan on killing him.”

“I serve Minerva, guardian of the Planet. I am the Hero of the Dawn, Healer of Worlds,” replied Genesis. He stood up straighter, freed his hand from his stomach and gave a wide sweep with his arm. “I seek to heal the scars left behind by the beast.”

Cid jumped out from behind Vincent and pointed his spear at Genesis. “Hey, I ain’t particularly fond of Sephiroth, but you’re an outright twat, buddy. You ShinRa douches are all over-dramatic pissbabies!”

Genesis snarled and summoned another great burst of flame. “Don’t you dare lump me in with those dogs again!” he screamed, just as the ball of fire exploded in front of them. As the hot rocks and dirt rained down on them, Vincent grabbed Cid and pulled him under his cloak until the dust settled.

When they looked up again, Genesis was gone.


	2. Shades of Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genesis tails Cid and Vincent up to the reactor.

When Genesis had been awakened from his stasis beneath Midgar’s ruins, he had been given a task, an order, a holy missive from the guardian of the Lifestream herself, the great Goddess Minerva, he had felt honored and privileged to be in her service. He was the last remaining First Class SOLDIER, purified from Jenova’s calamitous influence while he had slept, left with all the strength and power he had meant to yield before his degradation.

However, as he hunched on an outcropping of stone and watched the men who had assaulted him make their way up toward the disabled reactor on Mount Nibel, Genesis had to wonder if the Goddess had a cruel sense of humor.

The blond loudmouth had speared him like an hors d’oeuvre, and the other – who infringed on Genesis’ signature red coat with his ratty cloak – had some sort of darkness sewn into his being that Genesis was both threatened and insulted by. That they had shown up again during his investigation of the Planet’s history involving the Calamity had to be more than mere coincidence. Yet, they proved to be a formidable team, and Genesis decided that, as he healed, to tail them, but much more quietly than he had before.

Somehow, the one with the gun had heard him, and alerted his companion to Genesis’ presence. He decided that he would need more information on them before he was to continue his research.

There was also the haunting familiarity with which the dark-haired one had glared at him. Though Genesis was certain he had never met a man with eyes that burned like pure hellfire, there was still something in his gaze that was irritatingly recognizable.

From the safety of his perch, Genesis watched the blond sling his spear casually across his shoulders and drape his arms across the shaft. That he’d been injured by that un-enhanced _lout_ was salt in his very real wound. _Goddess, give me strength…_ he prayed as he listened in.

 

“So, that’s twice this asshole’s dropped in on us. An’ twice he’s fucked off before we could get answers,” said the gruff blond. He kicked rocks off the mountain path as if they _weren’t_ travelling along a trail littered with wolves and dragons. His lax nature belied his ferocity with his weapon, Genesis reminded himself. He reached into his coat and pressed his hand against his healing wound. _I will have to make him pay for damaging my attire…_

“ _You_ had to provoke him,” reminded the dark haired one. Genesis pressed his lips together at the sound of such a gravelly tone, now that he could hear it outside of the heat of battle. It seemed so rich for a man who looked like an armed hobo who was once probably a model. “Though I do think he would not have let us simply interrogate him. SOLDIERs were trained against Turk information extraction.”

Genesis glared after them as they rounded a bend and their voices were carried off beyond his hearing and into the wind. He would have to fly after them, but he let the pair get a head start first. That the one knew he was a SOLDIER had somehow recognized him. That fact alone made Genesis curious as to how much of his history still remained outside of the Deepground.

Once he’d given himself to the count of thirty to allow the two their head start, Genesis opened his wing and caught an updraft to carry him behind the two he tailed. They casually worked together to pick off beasts of the mountain left and right with gunfire from the dark haired one and stabs from the blond loudmouth who also possessed a disturbing amount of dynamite.

As they fought, travelled and bickered – well, the one Genesis learned to be named “Cid” did much of the bickering – he realized that these two could become invaluable to his quest. In their conversation, he heard the dark haired one, that _Vincent,_ mention Sephiroth. Being that he was the entire reason Genesis had been called on to retread the Calamity’s path, Genesis realized he may have to befriend these particular upstarts if he was to find out where Sephiroth had gone into hiding.

“Are ya still pissed that I said he looks like you? Because, it’s the eyes, really…” said Cid. “And you’re both stupidly tall…”

“I was never ‘pissed’ about that. It had not crossed my mind because I did not have that kind of relationship with Lucrecia. Her guilt about my father’s death was probably the deciding factor in that,” replied Vincent.

 _Is that why his gaze feels familiar?_ Genesis wondered as he crept along an overhang he landed on. _Those eyes are particularly fierce, but… it’s been too long… he’s far too young…_

“That don’t mean she didn’t… yanno… take a sample…” suggested Cid, though it seemed like his argument failed him. He sat down on a rock and lit one of his cigarettes. The impromptu break caused Vincent to stop beside him, though Vincent remained on his feet. “I mean, _scientists…_ ”

“I do not think we should be having this conversation in the open, Cid.”

Cid had the decency to look ashamed, at least. Genesis gleaned that the topic must have been sensitive to Vincent as Cid appeared strained in even bringing up the subject of this “Lucrecia.” Cid sniffed and looked away to observe their surroundings, perhaps in watch for the man who watched them. “I’m sorry I keep mentioning it…”

“We’re still being followed,” said Vincent. “His scent is on the wind. Leather, apples… and blood.”

Genesis sat up from where he lay against the precipice and pulled back against the mountain face. That his scent gave him away so easily, among the other dozens the trail must have carried… he had to wonder what made this Vincent so able to detect him. Had experimental cross-breeds carried into animal characteristics? Genesis wondered.

“You may as well make yourself known,” said Vincent. However, Vincent’s voice did not come from below, but right in front of Genesis. In less than the blink of an eye, Vincent had gone from standing on the path beneath Genesis to delicately perched upon the cliff edge, inches from where Genesis had sought shelter. “Why do you keep following us?”

Genesis got to his feet and puffed out his chest, no matter how his midsection ached from being run through. The wound no longer bled, but it still burned while the muscles healed under his Goddess’ care. Injured or not, Genesis would not, could not seem weak. Not to this stranger who knew things he sought answers to.

“You know where Sephiroth is,” replied Genesis. Honesty was the best policy in this case. He was at a disadvantage. “I seek him.”

“Not a wise life choice,” Vincent replied, dry and without a hint of irony (or any readable emotion) in his expression. Even if their eyes weren’t alike, the ability to hide emotions was strikingly, frustratingly similar. “Why?”

Before he would answer, Genesis stretched his wing out against the rock wall. Black feathers against gray stone, the shine and softness against the rough and filth, he thought might have said more than he could describe. “He and I have a history.”

Vincent continued to look infuriatingly blank at Genesis’ reveal – even though Genesis believed it should have exposed everything – and did not even move his eyes from Genesis’ face. “So?”

Genesis felt his feathers puff along the edges as Vincent brushed him off with just a word. He drew his wing back in quickly and it disappeared in a cloud of preternatural ashes. “So?” he mimicked back. _“My soul, corrupted by vengeance… Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey…In my own salvation…”_

Vincent sighed and turned around, unfettered by Genesis’ response. “I don’t have time for this. It’s getting dark.” Without so much as a grunt, he leapt from the edge and landed easily on the path beside Cid, who had stood up in an effort to see their interaction. “He wants to speak in verse,” said Vincent, not so much as a complaint as it seemed an exasperated observation, if Genesis were to judge from the way Cid slapped his palm over his face.

“Between Sephiroth’s evil speeches an’ this dick’s poetry recital, I may never read again,” grumbled Cid. He turned, with Vincent, to continue their journey along the path to the reactor.

Such dismissal made Genesis launch himself from the outcropping and he landed roughly on his feet in front of them. “You make demands and then leave me like that? Who are the two of you? What do you have to do with Sephiroth?”

Cid nearly charged him, but Vincent raised his arm as a barrier before Cid threw himself at Genesis once more. “The fuck do you care? You got a wing like Sephiroth does. Big fuckin’ whoop. Don’t see how that fuckin’ works, since physics don’t _function_ that way, but you do you, sweetcheeks. We’ve got shit to do!”

“How dare you!” shouted Genesis, affronted that someone would speak to him in such a manner. While he had been in stasis for well over a decade, Genesis believed that he, as a SOLDIER, should have commanded _some_ respect, still. Yet Cid persisted in his insolence. “I am Genesis Rhapsodos, Guardian to the Planet under the Goddess Minerva!”

Cid rolled his eyes hard enough that he might have sprained something. “Yeah? I’m _Doctor_ Cid Motherfucking Highwind, Captain of the _Shera_ an’ head of the WRO aerial division! You wanna compare dicks, be prepared to drop trou, asshole!”

Vincent interrupted them as he turned to Cid and asked, rather innocently, “When did you finish your doctorate?” As if Genesis was not even there. “And which field? Not astrophysics…”

Somehow, at least, it cooled Cid’s overheated temper when he answered, almost bashfully, “Uh, last year, and, um… just engineering. Workin’ on aerospace engineering though…” He rubbed at the back of his head. The warmth in his face was centered on his cheeks as he looked down at Vincent’s small smile.

Genesis gaped at the pair and had to shake himself out of his shock. “Am I being had? Are we not about to fight? Or at least beat an interrogation out of each other? Or have I actually lost it? Please, enlighten me.”

Both men looked to Genesis as if they suddenly remembered he was there. It did not take a literary romantic to see there was something unsaid between them; any other time, Genesis might have waxed poetic about it, but for now, he was just glad they paid him some attention, if they were going to continue this exchange.

“What is it you want from us?” asked Vincent. Cid swatted Vincent’s arm; Vincent looked down at where Cid had hit him and blinked, then dusted off the bit of dirt left by Cid’s glove with a light brush of his golden claws.

“Before that, I want a goddamned apology! That fucking Bolt spell hurt!” barked Cid.

“You’ve had worse,” Vincent murmured.

“That ain’t the point!”

Genesis pinched the bridge of his nose and sheathed his rapier. Clearly, there was not going to be a fight, not with weapons, anyway. “I apologize, but you were, to me, intruders on a sacred territory. Where the last Cetra fell…” started Genesis.

“Her name was Aerith!” snarled Cid now. Vincent held him back again, but Cid was not calmed by the contact. Instead, he just reached over Vincent’s arm and pointed a finger at Genesis in accusation. “You egotistical pricks like to call her by what she was, but she had a goddamned name! Her name was Aerith – an’ you don’t match up to her, Mr. High-and-Mighty Guardian douchebag.”

“Chief,” said Vincent. He put both hands on Cid now, to restrain him; Genesis had already sensed Vincent’s inhuman strength, so Cid should have been no match, but it seemed like Vincent did not really want to put in the effort to physically hold him back. Cid got forward enough that Vincent’s hand wrapped around one of Cid’s wrists, so the captain could point right in Genesis’ face.

“Aerith was special, but not because she was a Cetra,” Cid spat.

Genesis took a deep breath and stepped back. He held both hands up in placation and bowed his head. “My apologies. My Goddess told me of her import as a Cetra, but I did not know of her worth to the humans of this world.”

“Fer fucks sake, talk normal!”

Genesis sighed again and pressed his lips together. “I didn’t know she had friends. The Goddess maintains some… mystery. Much of what I know is that she spoke to the Planet… and that Sephiroth murdered her.” He paused and smiled ruefully. “Alas, he did not know he only increased her power…”

Vincent let Cid go; Cid shrugged his shoulders and backed up so they were side by side again. “I ain’t got time for this Goddess crap. I’m not a religious man,” muttered Cid.

“Clearly,” replied Genesis. “May we come to some sort of accord?”

Vincent spoke again and looked Genesis dead in the eye. “What is it you want?” he asked. “We are on our way to the reactor,” he offered. Cid folded his arms over his chest and glared at Genesis, much like a frustrated child.

“I merely seek Sephiroth. His presence out of the Lifestream poses an imbalance. No one should be able to escape as he has, yet this is his third violation of the natural order.”

Vincent, whom Genesis had started to like, if only for his diplomatic approach, gave a small nod. “And you wish to send him back? Only one man has been able to defeat Sephiroth, you realize.”

Genesis swallowed back the bitter taste in his mouth and pressed a tight smile on his face. Someone had finally stopped Sephiroth, and of course, it had not been him. “Indeed I do. What of that man? Does he know Sephiroth is back?”

Cid startled Genesis with a loud, barking laugh. He doubled over and slapped one knee and used his spear for balance. “Does he fucking _know?!_ Sephiroth an’ Cloud are sharing a fucking apartment!”

“Cid…” Vincent reached down and pulled Cid back up by the collar of his jacket. “Stop laughing. You’ll attract dragons.”

Genesis gaped again, too surprised to say anything immediately. “They’re living together? What sort of twisted fate is this?” He leaned in, as if the mountain might listen in on their conversation. “I heard rumors, once upon a time, that Sephiroth had a secret lover, but I thought it was something started by his fanclub…”

Cid nearly fell out of Vincent’s grip as he started to laugh even harder. “Holy fucking shit… this guy has no goddamned clue, does he? Oh man…” Cid wiped at his eyes and twitched with suppressed chuckles. “Mm, nah, I don’t think they’ve bumped uglies yet, but my crew’s taking bets on it. Though my money’s on them havin’ Hatesex before they try ta date.”

“You’re very crass,” observed Genesis. Vincent shot Genesis a pleading look; he realized immediately that the idea of this Cloud and Sephiroth dating each other was some sort of running gag. It had to be, if people were taking bets on when they would hook up. And Cid’s crude joking was something Genesis was quite familiar with, given how many men like him had been in the army. “I am sorry I asked. My information is rather… outdated.”

“Where the hell have you been, to know Sephiroth’s been alive again, but not know anything about Cloud?” asked Cid, once he had calmed himself enough to speak.

“I have been asleep under the ruins of Midgar. Though, they were not ruins when I went into my slumber.” Genesis caught Vincent’s eyes widen slightly before he looked to Cid. Another unspoken conversation was had right in front of him. “I found Weiss below the city…”

“Weiss?” Vincent looked back to Genesis, then to Cid, and to Genesis once more. “We’re going to the reactor. All of us. You’re going to talk,” he said as he took the lead toward the reactor again. Genesis  nodded his assent; better to stay in numbers and be done with the nonsense, onto their work if they were to get along.

Cid shrugged and put his spear over his shoulders. “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he commented as he followed Vincent up the old path. “So, you were asleep…” prompted Cid. “Self-induced or somebody make ya do it?”

“It was my choice to slumber, while the Goddess purged my body of Jenova’s influence. She healed me from within and cured the degradation that threatened my existence…” began Genesis. He shared his discovery of the SOLDIER program’s dark secrets and how he had been a First Class alongside Sephiroth and his dearly departed Angeal. In return, Cid offered his view of the story between Sephiroth and Cloud, which included the town at the base of the mountain.

“I recall that time…” said Genesis, when Cid got to the patchy recollection of the encounter at the reactor. “Sephiroth and I exchanged our final words to one another… he left me to rot while the city burned. Were it not for Fair, I would have never met my Goddess…”

Cid gave him a reasonably skeptical look. For all Genesis had spoken of her, he was also the only one to have ever met her, as far as Genesis knew. “But the Deepground offered to shelter me in exchange for helping to tear the remains of ShinRa down for the horrid experiments they conducted. A pity that Fair was killed… the puppy was one of the few decent creatures in that wretched army.”

“Whatever happened to Weiss’ body?” asked Vincent as they approached the reactor. “Is he dead or not?”

Genesis looked up at the reactor and felt his heart clench at the memories tied to it. “He sleeps, in a place I’d rather not disclose at this time.” He sensed Vincent’s eyes on the side of his face and glanced in his direction. “I’ve yet to decide if you are friend or foe. I’m certain you feel the same.”

“I do,” agreed Vincent. “You go first.”

Genesis shrugged and headed into the reactor, into the dark and barely lit structure that he’d visited over a decade before. Everything had begun to rust and decay as the Planet reclaimed this part of the mountain for itself, albeit in a violently mutated way. Much of the moss and lichen that had already started to invade was _eating the metal_ , and Genesis was no botanist, but he was certain moss couldn’t just _do_ that. He poked his head through the open door and looked down to Vincent and Cid. “Do watch your steps. The plant life in here seems rather… voracious.”

Vincent and Cid exchanged glances as they followed Genesis up the metal steps and into the reactor. Cid pulled out a light and angled it in his pocket so they would have some means to see by. Some of the moss and mutant mushrooms shrank in reaction to the light, others merely twitched and trembled.

“Fuck me sideways… I thought the mansion was creepy…” muttered Cid, the quietest Genesis had heard him so far. “Did Mako leaks cause this?”

Vincent reached out and delicately poked at a mushroom with one of his gilded claws. It curled away from the contact almost immediately. “This was where Cloud said Hojo had stored his other experiments between my slumber and Sephiroth’s discovery. It’s possible that the plants fed on the deceased monsters stored here. Then they simply thrived on their own.”

Cid nodded and carefully tapped at the metal flooring with his spear; Genesis had to credit his ingenuity. He didn’t think to check where he stood for any hidden rust traps that could send him to injury. Perhaps not to his doom, but having a leg stuck in a hole in the floor would be terribly inconvenient.

Their search did not turn up much, which none of them really should have been surprised. Here and there was evidence of persons who had died in the reactor. Whether from foolish bravado or they were remnants of Hojo’s monster experiments was unclear, but the bones were unmistakably human…ish.

Up in the main reactor, Cid shined a light on the damnable nameplate, the one that read: JENOVA in embossed letters. Genesis looked upon the name with a shudder. The discovery of that… _thing_ had been the cause of all his misery – His and Angeal’s degradation, and somehow, it had made Sephiroth “great.” All his power had come from her and Genesis had to wonder still, what had made him so special, so unique, that he could not be cloned? They all had this same “mother” creature in their genetics, even if it had failed for two of them, why not fail for all or succeed?

Genesis felt Vincent come to a stop beside him as he observed the nameplate. “You are not the only one with grievances related to Jenova,” he said, as if he could read Genesis’ mind. “Professor Lucrecia Crescent – Sephiroth’s real mother – had visions of what her son would become because of Jenova. Hojo allowed himself to become obsessed with creating a perfect weapon, a vessel for Jenova’s life force. Sephiroth.”

Genesis looked at Vincent as soon as he stopped talking. “How do you know all of that?”

“I was their bodyguard.” Vincent continued to look at the door. Beside them, Cid shuffled about carefully and looked into the emptied capsules that once held Hojo’s unfortunate specimens.

“How? You don’t look much older than I,” asked Genesis.

“I was an experiment as well,” Vincent replied. “Though I was not infused with Jenova cells… I was more of… a hobby.”

“That sounds-“ Genesis’ response was cut off when Cid gave a pained yelp. He stumbled back and away from a broken capsule, where a haze of yellowish particles slowly drifted toward the floor. Vincent darted to Cid before he tripped over his feet and caught him. Genesis joined Vincent and supported Cid’s weight while his legs failed under him.

Cid’s face was pale and his lips were blue. His head rolled loosely on his shoulders and his pupils were dilated. Veins stuck out in his face and were highlighted by the sweat that broke out over his skin. Cid struggled to control his motor functions and shuddered in their hands.

“Cid…” Vincent patted down himself and Cid in what Genesis could only hope was the search for an Antidote to whatever pollen he’d been sprayed with. “You forgot your Ribbon, didn’t you…” he whispered, harsh and angry. However, Vincent pulled Cid out of Genesis’ grip and into his arms, cradled against Vincent’s chest. “I am taking him back to Nibelheim. We have supplies there.”

Genesis stared after Vincent. “I can carry him faster. I can fly,” he offered. It was the opportunity to make allies with both of them, if he were their hero…

“So can I,” growled Vincent. He took off at a quick pace, the sabotons on his boots making an echo through the reactor. Genesis followed, now intrigued. Vincent’s strange power rose within him, and Genesis could feel something dark and almost _ancient_ rise from sleep.

Once they made it to the door and were out of the dark, Genesis watched Vincent transform his features around the man in his arms. He was larger, more powerful and by far, much more dangerous than Genesis could have first guessed. Large, leathery wings sprouted from Vincent’s back and with a mighty flap, he was airborne, and Genesis right beside him.

“A hobby?” asked Genesis. “You are a complete being, as I am,” he said as they began to glide down the mountain path. “Why not embrace this part of you?”

The thing that had been Vincent Valentine glared at him with eyes like smelted gold. It bared its teeth at Genesis, but said nothing as they flew toward the town. It was a much quicker trip than it had been going up, and Vincent seemed in complete control of himself, though he _did_ nearly knock the water tower off its legs when he used it as a stopping post.

Once they had both landed, Vincent handed over Cid’s limp form to Genesis and pointed out a house with a thin wisp of smoke that curled up from the chimney. Genesis chose to not ask why Vincent did not change back and do this himself – instead, he kicked in the door and carried Cid inside to a bed and carefully laid Cid down.

Cid’s state had not changed much in the trip, though his eyes were closed now and his body shivered and trembled. Genesis cast about for the supplies Vincent mentioned – he gave a triumphant “aha!” when he discovered a crate that had what he could use.

“Antidote… antidote…” Genesis fished about and extracted a vial from the box, then turned toward the prone form on the bed. “Your curiosity nearly killed you… serves you right,” he muttered. “Come now…” He knelt and tucked an arm under Cid’s head and gingerly lifted him up to pour the antidote into his mouth when Vincent burst in. Back to his normal shape, Vincent strode over and took the bottle away from Genesis.

“Better to use an Esuna,” he growled, voice even more rough than before. “Antidotes may not be strong enough.”

“I don’t carry Heal materia anymore. I pray.”

Vincent snarled in his throat and grabbed a rucksack that sat by a rocking chair and rifled through it. He pulled out a green orb and held it out to Genesis. “Use it. Pray to it… I am… compromised.” Just as violently as he’d walked in, Vincent stormed out. His energy was still high, the after effects of turning into that monstrosity too apparent to Genesis with his unusual agitation.

“I would like to hear about that when we are sure your little friend is not dying,” said Genesis, though it was to an empty doorway. He merely held onto the orb and felt the power inside. It felt like breathing; he merely pushed his will through the orb and a soft green light sparkled and settled over Cid’s form.

Cid stopped his twitching and lay on the bed, more relaxed and definitely unconscious. The veins in his face were still apparent, but they did not stand out like the blood threatened to explode through his skin. He breathed slow and evenly, in a deep sleep.

“Very well… pleasant dreams,” commented Genesis. He left the Heal materia on the bed beside Cid and got to his feet. Now that Cid seemed stable, he wanted to check on his other host. It wasn’t difficult; Vincent’s mental state had him clank back and forth over the cobblestones outside the borrowed house. His sabotons struck the ground hard enough that a few times, he caused sparks.

“Cid is stable,” said Genesis, hands on his hips. “I thought you would like to know since you nearly threw a remedy at me.”

Vincent paused and glared at Genesis. Now that the sun had set and night blanketed them, Genesis could see the gold had not entirely retreated from Vincent’s eyes. The red irises remained, but the golden yellow replaced the whites, once again reminding Genesis of pure, elemental fire. “Thank you.”

“So, that creature you turned into,” ventured Genesis.

“Chaos.” Vincent began to pace again.

“Chaos. Yes. Quiet the powerful entity you have stowed within you…” Genesis watched Vincent walk a few feet away before he turned with a flair of his cloak, pulled around by the man himself. And people had the nerve to call Genesis dramatic.

Vincent stopped in front of Genesis when they met in the middle again. “Why did you electrocute him in Ajit?”

“Just to incapacitate him. I was genuinely surprised to find anyone there. I thought the airship at the coast belonged to someone at the excavation site. I did not think anyone could get through the forest.”

“Why were you there at all?”

Genesis took a breath to ground himself before he continued with this verbal tennis match. Vincent clearly wanted something else to think about instead of the man who slept off a poisonous pollen. “Because I have been researching what happened in my time asleep. It’s not easy to find things out when you’re supposed to be a dead man.”

Vincent scoffed and walked a few steps away. “You’d be surprised. Death is a revolving door to some.”

“So I can tell.” Genesis stepped up beside Vincent, almost shoulder to shoulder. “What allows you control over the beast within?”

“My own will,” said Vincent. He stared toward the house where Cid slept. Genesis leaned forward and into his line of sight to inspect Vincent’s face. The gold had faded and left just the lovely blood red in Vincent’s irises. “It should have stayed in the Lifestream when I defeated Omega.”

“You have quiet the storied life, don’t you?” asked Genesis. He smirked and stepped up in front of Vincent to gain his focus. “While I am curious, I will not pry. What I will say… and repeat myself when your friend wakes again… is that I am sorry.”

Vincent pushed Genesis aside and walked toward the house. “Save it. I don’t care.”

Genesis watched Vincent enter the house again and nearly slam the door behind him. He folded his arms over his chest and scoffed. _“My friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess…”_ he recited under his breath. “You care… far more than you’d like to admit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to make sure I had at least two chapters of this up before I go on a little vacation. Hope it's been worth the wait!
> 
> also: Genesis ships it, lol.


	3. Nature vs. Nurture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent takes care of Cid, Genesis is a little shit.

Vincent had never really considered himself a caregiver. A bodyguard, he had been once, and if his teammates in AVALANCHE had been injured and Vincent happened to be armed with a Restore materia or a few Potions, he was fine with stepping in to heal a sick or injured friend.

However, Cid Highwind was a man who broke expectations as often as Tifa broke noses. Frequently and without warning. As such, Cid’s current illness was not a matter of not having the proper Antidote at the right time, but an accidental discovery that mutated mold spores were highly toxic on contact. On top of that, they would not have been spread if Cid had simply reined in his curiosity once in a while. Had he not poked at an interesting-looking fungus with _his index finger_ , it would never have reacted by spewing the toxic spores in his face.

Vincent kept these thoughts to himself as he stood vigil at Cid’s door. While the Esuna Genesis had cast was effective in keeping the toxins from killing Cid outright, the sheer strength of the mutated spores had effectively rendered him bed-ridden until his body could flush them out.

Cid slept fitfully, with a fever that kept him sweating through most of his clothes, which Vincent carefully hand-washed when he managed to strip a somewhat-conscious Cid on his second day of illness. When he was able to sit up, Vincent managed to get tea and broth into Cid to keep him hydrated. When Cid slept, he made trips to the ShinRa manor and carted boxes of their findings from the mansion to the living room area of the house they borrowed.

Genesis had made himself useful during these trips only, as he swore up and down that he was “not much of a nurse.” Vincent wanted to shoot him for the smug, sorry-but-really-not smile he provided his answer with, but he was also secretly relieved. He did not trust Genesis to tend to Cid, had not been given reason to – and if Cid woke up and only saw Genesis there, Vincent was positive Cid would hurt _himself_ in an attempt to get revenge for Ajit.

In the meantime, Vincent had contacted the _Shera_ and sent it back to WRO headquarters. While Cid was out of commission, the crew agreed to head back to Edge and pick up Cait Sith so the records they had so meticulously gone through could be taken back and archived in a digital library for later perusal.

It was the fifth evening of Cid’s recovery that found Vincent seated by the fireplace in the living room, surrounded by boxes with his feet propped up on one of the crates as he thumbed through records in a binder. This particular record had caught Vincent’s attention because it was not one of the hand-written journals like those that Gast had kept, ones that Sephiroth likely had gone through. Instead, the pages were meticulously typed out, with notes carefully paper-clipped in where additional discoveries had been made.

 _“Specimen H of reproductive trials has been ruled out.”_ Vincent read to himself, _“After thorough testing and efforts to enhance fertility, subject remains ineffective as donor. Mako has been unable to increase reproductive samples than subject could naturally produce. Therefore, it is concluded that a substitute must be acquired, or the Reunion Theory will fail. Specimen L has been tested for fertility and is ready for reception whenever a replacement can be made for Specimen H.”_ A piece of paper had been stapled to this particular page, with “Subject V?” written in faded ink, with no further information provided.

Vincent turned the page of the report to look at a printout of some kind of chart, with tiny print suggesting chances for two subjects to be successful, when his adjustment of the binder caused something to slip from the back binder pocket to the floor. As Vincent leaned over the armrest of his seat to pick up the old-fashioned diskette, he heard a floorboard creak. He looked up to see Cid stare back at him, forlorn and miserable, wrapped in the quilted blanket from the bed. Vincent tucked the diskette back inside the binder and got to his feet.

“Cid, you shouldn’t be out of bed yet…” said Vincent. He placed his good hand over Cid’s forehead to feel for his fever; he was warm, but not nearly the inferno he had started with. His other hand looped behind the small of Cid’s back as the shorter man wobbled on his feet.

“I’m hungry an’ I need a piss,” grumbled Cid. He started to push forward, but barely moved against the wall that was Vincent. Instead, his face just met Vincent’s shoulder with a mournful groan. “Vince, lemme by…”

“I haven’t got anything made, Cid, but if you want me to help you to the bathroom, I can do that much,” offered Vincent. “Your clothing’s in there, too. Clean.”

Cid opened his blanket enough to peek under it and he gave a dry chuckle. “Vincent Valentine, you dirty man… gettin’ a fella all undressed while he’s sleepin’.”

Vincent rolled his eyes skyward and shook his head. “Chief…” he sighed.

“I know, you ain’t got a spot of dirt on ya. Now, help me ‘fore I piss my blanket. Then you gotta wash that, too.”

“As you wish,” replied Vincent. He helped Cid to the bathroom and kicked the trailing blanket in after him so as to not get it caught in the door. When the door was shut, Vincent turned toward the small kitchen area and began to rummage through their food supplies for _something_ he could make. He had never been much of a cook, and he frequently forgot to eat on his own.

A crash in the bathroom had Vincent back at the door with a soft knock. “Are you all right in there?” he called, glad to hear a string of guttural curses being thrown at the sink.

“No, shit... Y-Yeah, ‘m fine! Just tried ta get my jeans on an’ I whacked my knee on this goddamned sink!” Cid returned. “Fuck it…” he grumbled after a moment, and opened the door again. “Ain’t got the balance fer these,” he said as he shoved the offending jeans against Vincent’s chest. Instead of asking for another pair of pants, Cid had decided to fold the quilt over and held it around his waist with one arm, like an over-sized kilt.

Vincent watched, feeling baffled, as Cid shuffled his way back into the living room and took up the seat Vincent had been using. He picked up a book from one of the stacks near the chair, muttered “words,” under his breath and tossed it back down. He spread the quilt over his bare legs and drew it up so it covered most of his chest as he got himself comfortable in the old chair, then looked to Vincent.

“Can I have somethin’ to eat now? Even if it’s just a sandwich outta leftovers, that’s fine. Or toast an’ tea?” Cid asked; his voice was so small as to sound apologetic that it shocked Vincent. Even the way he looked up, eyes doleful and pleading like a dog begging for scraps, but with a bit of sincerity as to not be confused with Cid’s natural sarcasm.

“Of course…” Vincent trailed, surprised that Cid felt the need to be sorry for anything. Cid was the type of man who only apologized when proven to be in the wrong. He was rarely “wrong” about sating his own curiosity, even if it did get him hurt.

Vincent mulled over the reasons as he stoked the pot-bellied stove to life and placed the kettle over a burner. _He had expressed an interest in me…_ he thought to himself. _He’s also expressed attractions to power tools or a well-built machine…_ his mind added. He scooped some loose-leaf tea into Cid’s cup while the water boiled and placed bread in a pan to make the toast, as his mind sifted through the rationale. _Others have told me I’m ‘hot…’ Nothing serious… Cid can’t be serious… he doesn’t realize the problem…_

The kettle’s whistle brought Vincent out of his thoughts, as well as Cid calling out “Vince? Y’alright?” from the other room. Vincent took the kettle off the burner and poured the water into Cid’s cup, glad for the distraction from his inner voices – his own and the demons offering their “advice” on the situation.

Once the toast was plated up and the tea steeped, Vincent brought the plates out and handed them to Cid, one at a time, all while he avoided the man’s gaze – directly, anyway. Cid took the dishes with a soft “thanks” before he started in on the toast. Vincent cleared books away from the couch he slept on and sat down sideways, legs stretched to the end and his head propped up on one hand. “I hope your tea is right,” he offered. “I know you're very particular about it.”

“It's great, Vince, thanks,” replied Cid. He smiled and lifted his cup in Vincent’s direction, then took another sip with his toast.

A few minutes passed in quiet, only accompanied by the sounds of the fire crackling and the sounds of dishware knocking together as Cid had his meager dinner. Once he was finished, Cid picked up the binder from where Vincent had left it and flipped it open. “So, find anything useful in all this crazy horseshit or is it just more crazy horseshit?” he asked. The diskette slipped out onto his lap while he looked, but he did not pay it immediate attention.

“It sounds like Hojo kept a record of his attempts at creating Sephiroth, but the language is...”

“Scientific gobbledygook.”

“More or less. I am well-read but not...”

“Not a scientist.” Cid smirked in amusement as he picked up the diskette from his lap and examined it. At least three inches in either dimension, the label was clearly faded and illegible. Cid squinted at the label that had been marked with a ballpoint pen, which left an impression, but was unreadable without the ink filling in the lines.

“I've already tried that,” noted Vincent. “Are you still hungry?”

Cid shook his head and put the binder and diskette aside. “Nah. Could use a little more tea, though, if you please.” He held his cup out to Vincent when he stood up again and took him by the wrist when Vincent reached out to accept it. “Y'ain't wearin' your gloves...” he noted. His thumb brushed over the pulse point in Vincent's wrist before he let him go.

“I didn't see the need. We're inside, and it is comfortable here,” murmured Vincent. He held his hand close to his waist as he turned and quickly retreated to the kitchen. He leaned over the cup as he filled it and let the steam brush over his face. It didn't feel nearly as warm as he already was; Cid's hands were tough of course, but the touch to his skin light and gentle, even if he had caught Vincent off guard.

He took a moment to breathe in the scent of the tea as it steeped and let his mind calm down. It was a rare thing for anyone to touch him these days, not without layers of fabric and leather between him and whoever made contact. The soft touch made Vincent realize that it had been an even longer time to have someone treat him kindly; himself included.

Just as he started to bring the cup back to Cid, Genesis waltzed into the kitchen by way of the side door. His hair was damp and his coat covered in rivulets of water, which he shook off with a flourish of his arm. “I bring you news, my Stygian beauty,” remarked Genesis with a smirk. Such comments had been plentiful from Genesis during the week, all accompanied with a haughty grin of some sort, like he knew the peculiar compliments got under Vincent’s skin.

Vincent drew his lips into a thin line and glared ineffectually as Genesis moved to take off his coat and try to make himself at home. “I am not your anything. We are barely allies, Genesis.” He carried Cid’s cup back to him and was surprised to see Cid sitting up farther in the chair instead of lounging like he had been a moment ago. There was a decidedly unhappy look on his face as his gaze followed Genesis when the redhead casually strolled in behind Vincent like he belonged there. Vincent would even go so far as to say that if looks could kill, then Genesis would not only be dead, but exploded into pieces all over the living room.

“I am wounded. I told you, I come bearing news and I am met with such hostility. Have I not helped you, Vincent, in your little pursuit?” said Genesis.

Vincent turned and stood beside Cid with his hand placed on Cid’s shoulder. Cid glowered over his floral teacup with as much animosity as a recently-ill man could muster, which was perhaps the Limit for the average person. “You were very helpful in bringing boxes over from the mansion. Thank you. Now, state your business.”

Genesis folded his arms over his chest and snorted. “How very rude of a host you are. You attend your sickly little friend and not once have you offered _me_ something to drink. Such loyalty and care…”

“Are you naturally an asshole, or is it somethin’ you went ta school for?!” barked Cid. Vincent lightly squeezed Cid’s shoulder, silently grateful that Cid never held himself back with words. It made up for his own predisposition to waiting out someone’s boorishness.

“Please, Genesis, if you don’t have anything to say-“ began Vincent, but Genesis interrupted him.

“Your little friend’s airship has returned to the region. I saw it while circling the area. I flew straight through a raincloud to get here sooner. I thought you’d _appreciate_ that I came right back to let you kn-“

“Yeah, thanks a fuckin’ bunch. Now you’ve delivered your message, you can take your fancy ass back into the atmosphere,” said Cid as he waved at Genesis with one hand. “An’ stop drippin’ everywhere.”

“It’s all right, Cid, I can clean-“ Vincent began, with Genesis interrupting him again.

“I should take care of that. It _is_ my fault. My dear, just show me where the supplies are and I’ll happily mop up.” Genesis’ statement was paired with another smirk, probably because Vincent scowled at him for calling him “dear.” The man so clearly wanted to irritate Vincent after he saw what Vincent could become – it boggled the mind.

Vincent frowned in response, but moved away from Cid, who still seethed with a fury only restrained by his physical state, Vincent was certain. If he hadn’t been recovering from the poisonous fungus, Vincent was convinced Cid would have tackled Genesis and beaten his face into the floorboards. As it was, the heated stares did little more than just amuse their guest.

Once they were in the kitchen, Vincent directed Genesis to a small supply closet where an old string mop sat in the corner. While he had Genesis alone however, Vincent pulled him out of Cid’s line of sight into the kitchen and pushed him against the wall.

“What are you doing?” hissed Vincent. He could feel the demons react inside him, eager to get in on whatever had Vincent upset.

Genesis just grinned back at him, like he knew some big secret and kept it to himself. Vincent _hated_ that expression, on anyone, but Genesis had a way of making it even more irritating. “Whatever do you mean, dearest?”

“ _That._ Calling me names to purposely upset Cid. Do you want to be stabbed again?”

Genesis chuckled and raised a hand to touch Vincent’s hair, but Vincent snagged his wrist and pinned it to the wall over his head. “Your dear friend calls you ‘sweetheart.’ I thought something more complimentary was in order, considering he doesn’t seem to appreciate all you’ve been doing for him.”

“ _Cid_ is allowed. _Cid_ is my friend. And _Cid_ appreciates things in his own way,” snarled Vincent. He curled back his lips and bared his teeth, which he could feel them get longer and sharper in his mouth. He could sort out the “whys” later, but Genesis had started to bring out the worst in him, while Cid made everything quieter. “You are to call me _Vincent,_ and nothing more.”

Genesis gave him a suppressed smile and rolled his back against the wall. Despite the hold Vincent had on him, he realized that Genesis just allowed it to happen; Genesis pulled his hand away from where Vincent had it pinned and then jerked his hand free. “Of course. I merely wanted to see what you might show me,” he replied in a quieter tone. “You pretend like there’s nothing in there,” he continued, a finger pointed at Vincent’s heart, “That all your reactions are nothing more than the beasts you suppress, but I know that’s not entirely true, is it?”

Vincent let go of Genesis entirely and took a step back. “You’re wrong.”

Genesis turned away and took the mop from the small closet. He picked at one of the strands and rolled it in his fingers while his gaze lingered on Vincent’s face. “You keep telling yourself that, _Vincent,_ but you’re not that great of a liar.”

Vincent felt his body tense up and he wrapped his arms across his waist in spite of himself. Genesis brushed past him to make good on his promise and mopped up the water he had shed all over the kitchen floor and into the living room. Vincent distantly heard Genesis and Cid mutter some sort of insults at each other before Genesis returned and put away the mop.

“Still processing, I see,” said Genesis. “I will leave you to your thoughts, then, as well as get out of your hair for a while. My Goddess calls and I have places to be.” He pulled his coat back on and stepped closer to Vincent without making contact. Even still, Vincent instinctively coiled back and took a step out of Genesis’ reach again and glared at him.

“Leave, if you’re going,” Vincent hissed. He could feel Galian itching to get out and chew on Genesis for being so familiar with him, as if he had earned the right.

“Before I do, a word…” If it weren’t for the suddenly serious expression on Genesis’ face, Vincent might have given into the impulse to bodily pick him up and throw him outside. Genesis reached a hand up toward Vincent's shoulder, but seemed to think better of it and retracted his hand. “Stop waiting.”

Vincent raised a brow and opened his mouth to ask what that meant, but Genesis turned, and with as much flare as he’d shown up, left through the same side door. As it swung shut behind him, Vincent was left to stare after and wonder what Genesis meant by that.

“Is that hoity-toity shitstain gone?” called Cid. Vincent jolted where he stood and turned toward the living room again. He nearly collided with Cid, who had gotten up from his seat; he still carried the blanket around his waist. Vincent caught him before he toppled backwards, and Cid leaned into him with a weak laugh. “Sorry… wanted to make sure he was gone,” Cid spoke, mostly into Vincent’s collarbone.

“Yes, he… left.” Vincent took a deep breath; Cid smelled like smoke, herb tea and sweat from the week. “You need a bath,” he said abruptly.

Cid lifted his head and grinned. “Too much of a manly stink fer ya?” he asked. “Or do you just wanna get me naked?”

Vincent licked his lips and looked away with a roll of his eyes. He could feel his demons pull back and calm down as he composed himself. “There’s a difference between ‘manly’ and ‘awful.’ You’ve vaulted past the latter point, Chief.”

Cid pulled away with one hand raised in placation. “Awright. Bath time it is. Ya gonna help me out with this too, sweetheart?”

“Of course. But you’ll have to wash yourself.”

Cid put on a pout for a moment. “Not even gonna help a man wash his back? You’re cruel, Vince.”

Vincent bit his bottom lip and looked away again. He held back a chuckle, but Cid’s plaintive look and just the fact that he knew Cid was being silly on purpose made that difficult. “Very well. But _only_ your back. You’re not a helpless old man.”

“Cid Highwind ain’t ever been helpless!” said Cid. He smiled up at Vincent and sighed. “Well, not in the physical sense.” He turned and trotted into the bathroom, his blanket held up like an awkward skirt. Vincent gaped slightly in bemusement as Cid wandered away from him.

_What did **that** mean?_

Vincent followed to the door and stood just within the frame while Cid leaned over to attempt to start the water. He nearly toppled into the tub from his own lack of balance and Vincent darted in just in time to grab Cid before he concussed himself on the tub’s faucet.

“Ah… damn… got a little dizzy,” replied Cid. He smiled over his shoulder at Vincent, his face red with embarrassment. “Nice catch.” He pushed his weight back against Vincent and was he tugged away and sat on the toilet lid, where he was safe.

Vincent got the water going, glad that of all the rustic things the town had, there was at least updated plumbing in Nibelheim. He just imagined what kind of complaints he’d have to weather if Cid had to wait for him to get a water pump started. “That should be full soon enough. Will you need help getting in?”

Cid rubbed at the back of his head and nodded. “I think so. Normally, I’d be pissed fer ya treatin’ me like an old fart, but after nearly takin’ a header…” he trailed as he looked away from Vincent.

A soft chuckle emitted from Vincent’s throat. “There’s no shame in needing assistance. You’re still sick, and I don’t mind. I’ve been taking care of you all week already.”

Cid turned back toward Vincent and frowned. “Ya really shouldn’t have. I mean, we got the whole thing slowed down ‘cause I can’t keep my nose outta somethin’ I shouldn’t be touchin’ anyway.” His face went red again, but before he could turn himself away again, Vincent caught him by the chin and gently kept him in place.

“Cid, if you really believed that, you’d never have reached for space. You’re a curious man with a desire to learn. Even if what you’re trying to study could kill you.” Vincent’s lips pulled back in a small simper. “Sometimes, I think you’re going to die that way.”

Cid chuckled and took Vincent’s hand from his chin and held it. “Yanno, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought’im back.” With Vincent’s hand in one of his, Cid used the other to stroke along the inside of Vincent's forearm where his sleeve had been rolled up. “I won’t go ‘til I’m satisfied,” he said, and put his cheek into Vincent’s hand. Cid closed his eyes and stayed like that a moment, with Vincent’s hand held captive.

Vincent swallowed and watched his friend like that, with Cid just happy to touch some part of him. It drew him to their conversation from earlier in the week, before they’d gone to the reactor.

“Cid… this attraction you feel…” Vincent’s voice came at a mere whisper as Cid continued to hold his arm captive. “You said it wouldn’t be a distraction.”

“Is this bothering you?” asked Cid. He already pulled Vincent’s hand away from his face and stopped the casual strokes to his skin. That Vincent missed the contact soon after made him wonder if, maybe… “I can stop, yanno. Jus’ tell me.”

Vincent’s eyelids shuttered and he pulled his whole arm away and pretended that he didn’t see the flash of hurt on Cid’s face. “It’s not just casual attraction, is it?”

Cid cleared his throat and dropped his head down. “What would ya do if I said ‘no’?”

Instead of a reply, Vincent turned around to the tub and shut off the water. The rushing sounds didn’t stop for him, and Vincent realized it was the sound of blood in his ears when his heartrate shot through the roof. He was aware of the drips that fell from the faucet into the tub, and Cid’s movements behind him, but like Genesis’ confrontation earlier, he felt himself go tense.

“Vince?”

 _“You pretend like there’s nothing in there.”_ Vincent’s mind echoed with Genesis’ words to him. “… _that’s not entirely true, is it?”_

“You in there, sweetheart?”

Vincent turned around and nearly fell backwards into the tub when he realized Cid had stood and was right there behind him. Never, in his life before or now, had Vincent ever been so skittish. One arm moved up, instinctually, to catch the curtain rod over the tub, the other circled around Cid. The pilot reciprocated with his own arms around Vincent’s waist to keep him anchored before he fell over.

“Easy there, Nervous. Didn’t mean ta startle ya. You just went real quiet… an’ not in yer usual way.” Cid took a step back and pulled Vincent with him; by some stroke of luck, Vincent’s brain processed the signal to let go of the curtain rod before he ripped it clean out of the wall. “C’mon, darlin’, don’t…”

“Why do you call me that?” asked Vincent.

“What? ‘Darlin’? Or ‘sweetheart?’ It’s because that’s what you are. Darlin’ an’ sweet.” Cid smiled up at him with a sort of dreamy, almost dazed look in his eyes. His hands were still at Vincent’s waist, but they rested just idly at his hips instead of supporting his weight. “You don’t like’em?”

Vincent huffed and gently placed his hands on Cid’s arms, with every intention of pushing him away when Cid started to knead his thumbs into Vincent’s hipbone. A shudder rolled through Vincent and he lowered his head so he nearly touched noses with Cid. “Please, stop…”

“I’ll do whatever you want, baby…” Cid murmured up to him. His hands drew back as requested, which left Vincent the space to escape if he so wanted. Instead, Vincent just stood there and stared down to Cid, eye to eye and thought. Thought about Cid’s pet names for him, how Cid was determined to see through his shroud of mystery, no matter how many walls he put in Cid’s way. How few people got willingly close to him and out of those who did, Cid wanted to stay there. Those he didn’t want near, like Genesis, were treated with the enmity they deserved.

“You know how old I am,” murmured Vincent, after a few minutes of contemplation. “And how long I may yet live.” Cid nodded and shrugged.

“The moon’s old as balls, but I’d still like to make it there one day,” Cid replied. Vincent snorted and turned his head, but Cid pulled him back like Vincent had done to him. “Hey, if you don’t want me the same way, that’s all well an’ good, sweetheart. I know you’ve been hurt fer a long damn time. But, if you’ll let me, I’d like to help you feel better. Even if it ain’t forever, even if you only jus’ keep me nearby for drinks an’ stories, that’s okay with me. Just don’t be alone. Private’s fine, but don’t shut us all out.”

Vincent closed his eyes and placed his disfigured hand over Cid’s and held it against his face. “You won’t be disappointed if I can’t… fulfill certain needs?” he asked quietly. He opened his eyes when Cid scoffed; Cid smiled up at him, but there was a little impishness in his gaze as he answered.

“Darlin’, you’re not tellin’ me to get lost. You just gave me more than I ever expected.” Cid surprised Vincent with a hug, but Vincent suspected he surprised Cid right back when he wound his long arms around the smaller man and held on tight. A soft sigh elicited from Cid before they pulled away from each other.

“Okay, enough of bein’ all sentimental. I stink to high holy hell, an’ the bath’s probably cold by now.”

Vincent felt himself smile at Cid’s mental shift, but stuck around long enough to help him out of his clothing and into the bath water. As he held onto Cid’s lower back, the pilot just had to quip.

“Feels like I’m bein’ baptized an’ you’re too damn hot to be the preacher. I'm so goin' ta Hell.”

“Shut up or I’ll drown you,” said Vincent as he shook with suppressed laughter. “Or drop you.”

“Either way, I’ve got a good sight to go out on,” remarked Cid with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“That’s a big word for ‘cute.’”

“It doesn’t mean-“

“I know, but you blushed when I said it.” Cid sat up in the water once Vincent let him go and he touched Vincent’s face again. “You gonna stick around?”

Vincent frowned at the loaded question and pulled back to kneel beside the tub. “I’ll stick around as long as you need me,” he answered. Cid took that response with a smile and leaned back in the tub to relax before he would scrub himself clean.

“Good.”


	4. Coffin Nails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid and Vincent head back to Edge. Cloud gets a makeover.

Morning had broken completely by the time Cait Sith and the WRO crew had arrived to take care of the records found at the ShinRa Mansion. Cid had gone back to sleep, this time leaned against Vincent on the old sofa in the living room. He had wanted to stay warm after his bath, but had complained about being left alone in the bedroom. Vincent settled back with a novel that had been left behind by the house’s previous tenants and had been content to let Cid lean against him while he slept.

It was this scene that greeted Cait Sith as he rode in on his new “all terrain Moogle,” a slender version of his previous Mog, outfitted with red and gold armor and a white cape. The knight carried Cait in on its shoulders, the robots flanked by armed WRO troops. Cait hopped off his courier by Vincent’s feet and gave a little bow.

“Good to see ye lads are doing alright,” Cait trilled. “When I heard the report tha’ Cid had had himself a bit of trouble, I wasn’t really surprised ta hear it’d been’im.”

Cid grumbled from where he sat and pulled his blanket up further, unhappy to be awakened by the armored A.I. that had clomped in. “I don’ wanna hear about it, ya bucket of bolts. Better me than Vince, anyway. Dunno what that shit mighta done to him.”

Cait put his cartoony hands on his non-existant hips and tilted his head. “Ye think Vincent wouldna shaken it off by now, do ye, lad? You’re the only one of the two of ye who isn’t enhanced… you’re lucky ye aren’t dead!”

Cid peeked one eye out from behind his blanket and glared at the cat-bot that stood in front of them. “Story of my life. You tapped into Reeve or’s he asleep?” The time difference between the continents was vast; it wouldn’t have surprised him if Reeve had sent Cait in “mission mode” to pick them up and return without his direct control.

“Oi, ye know the creator donna’ sleep when there’s work to be done!” replied Cait. There was a soft ‘click’ from the cat, and in an instant, the mouth dropped open and Reeve’s voice floated through the speakers as they were connected.

“Something up, Cid?”

“You checked up on Cloud lately?”

Cid could hear Reeve shuffle things on his desk at the other end of his connection through Cait. “Well, no… I left him a few messages with his voicemail, but he hasn’t really returned them. Tifa has said he’s been busy with deliveries.”

Cid looked up at Vincent and shook his head. “Guess he an’ Sephiroth ain’t doin’ so well,” Cid suggested. He turned back to the cat robot and continued. “I’m gonna put in a video chat with him when we get on the _Shera._ If he don’t answer, we’re gonna track his ass down.”

“Understood. Just… go easy on him. Did you at least find what he asked you to? About Genesis?”

“Something like that,” Cid replied. “I’ll get more inta it when we see you again.”

“Very well. I’ll see you gentlemen soon,” concluded Reeve. There was a small beep, and Cait Sith’s mouth closed briefly before the cat was reanimated with its own movements. “Now then, lads, let’s get ye back on your airship post haste, eh? If ye want to make that call, that’is.”

 

The WRO team loaded up everything without requiring assistance from Vincent or Cid. Box after box was carted away in trucks and taken right to the _Shera—_ with one exception. Vincent gave the binder and the diskette he’d found inside of it right to Cait Sith to deliver to Reeve.

“This, I think, may be the most important,” Vincent explained. “Don’t lose the disk.”

Cait Sith offered Vincent a salute and inserted the diskette into a compartment on his Onion Knight Mog. “I’ll be sure to have the boss take great care in getting it handled, lad,” promised Cait.

 

Once they were in the air and Cid was properly settled in his quarters, Cid got out his phone and held it before himself; he took care to remain patient while the other end connected. Vincent sat nearby, out of sight of the camera but near enough if Cid still needed him.

Cloud picked up on the phone’s third set of rings and looked, to Cid, like he’d just gotten out of bed. His hair was extra tousled, and from what Cid could see, Cloud appeared to be shirtless.

“Didn’t wake ya, did I, kid?”

Cloud coughed against his shoulder and shook his head. “Not in a bad way. I needed to get up.” He turned around and Cid could see the walls behind him as Cloud moved around the space he was in. It was not Cloud’s room. Not even his apartment. Instead of the generic off-white of his apartment, or the blue gray that might suggest he was staying with Tifa, the room was painted in stripes of light and dark blue over some parts in a sandier tone, suggesting arches. The picture jittered as Cloud bobbed up and down around the room, apparently gathering his clothes.

“Cloud…” started Cid. “You at the Honeybee?” From the corner of his eye, Cid saw Vincent’s head jerk up in his direction.

Cloud looked back at the camera with a glare that could melt Mythril. “Yes. Mukki gives me a good rate when I need to get the hell out.”

“You and Sephiroth been at each other throats or somethin’?” Cid asked. He gave Vincent a quick glance and then focused on his phone again. “It ain’t because –“

“—What? No, we’re not fighting. I just… needed to relieve some pressure. Hell, Sephiroth’s been the better fucking roommate. He’s even done my laundry a couple times.” Cloud ran a hand through his hair and pulled it back from his face. Cid could see bags under his eyes and an overall exhaustion he knew a little too well himself.

“You’re not sleeping, either. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s fucking _wrong!_ ” Cloud barked and moved the camera so it stood, propped against something. Cloud was out of camera view, but Cid saw Cloud’s pants wave briefly in front of the camera, so it was apparent he was getting dressed. “It’s not nightmares, either. It’s just… Ever since he told me about that ‘potential reality…’ It won’t leave me the fuck alone. How does some other version of me fall for _that?_ He’s got a mountain of issues… _I’ve_ got a mountain of issues… most of them from _him…_ ” Cloud rambled until he came into view again. “So, I’ve been out of the apartment.”

Cid poked his tongue into his cheek and thought about what to say next. “Well, maybe you don’t wanna know what’s up right now.”

“Please. Anything to not think about… that.”

“Well… we met that asshole again.”

Cloud came back into view, shirt on, and stared at his phone a moment before he prompted: “That could be a lot of people from your perspective, Cid.”

“Genesis! That fruit-bat who put me in the hospital!” barked Cid. Vincent tucked his face into his cowl and coughed, but Cid could see his shoulders shaking. “He was over in Nibelheim. Apparently the fucker can really fly. He seemed interested in the fact that _you’ve_ defeated Sephiroth. Might buzz your way…”

Cloud looked away from the camera, to someone else who must have in the room, because he nodded and murmured something the phone couldn’t pick up. “You think he could really fly that far on a single wing?”

 “Physics doesn’t _fucking work like that,_ but hell; I’ve seen you get a vertical reach that shouldn’t be possible.” Cid ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know what to make of him… He helped Vincent unload the shit we found in the mansion while I was down.”

“You were down?” interrupted Cloud.

Cid frowned and leaned forward and over his phone, like he might talk over Cloud. “Well, if you picked up yer goddamned phone once in a while, you’d know I got poisoned.”

Cloud looked sheepishly into the camera and nodded. “I know, I know. I was just afraid to pick it up. In case it was Sephiroth.” He cleared his throat and pointed at the phone, at Cid. “Don’t lecture me, though. Tifa’s already given me a hard time for ignoring her.”

Vincent pushed away from the corner he was tucked into and sat beside Cid on his bed. Cid turned the phone to let him be seen as well. “So you chose the company of those who have no attachments,” stated Vincent, and Cid wanted to kiss him for how quick he was to read the situation. “He hasn’t called you once, has he?”

“He… well, he did… to tell me I had a work order come in,” replied Cloud.

“Lemme guess… he called your voicemail,” ventured Cid. The sheepish look was back and Cloud wiped a hand over his face. “Hate to push ya that direction, but not talking to him ain’t gonna help either of you.”

“I KNOW!” shouted Cloud. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know… and I’m sorry. I just can’t take any sort of predestination crap… even if what he tried to explain is true, if it’s only a chance among…” Cloud flattened his voice and made it as low as possible, “…among infinite universal influences…” He reverted to his normal tone and carried on, “I don’t want…” Cloud rubbed at one eye, his face turned blotchy and pink. “Why’s it always me and him?” he whispered into the phone. “Why can’t he leave me alone?”

Cid gave Cloud a sympathetic look and Vincent pressed into frame so he could see both of them. “I don’t believe in fate, Cloud. I understand coincidence and patterns. ‘Fate’ is what people blame for tragedies and praise in better times. You have chosen to protect the Planet and its people. He chose to return to life on a gamble. He understands and calculates risk; that is why he was the General of the ShinRa army and good at it. Sephiroth knows what he wages in the decisions he makes. Even if you are not a strategist, you understand loss and gain. If you never love him the way he may want, I’m certain he knew it was a possible outcome of his own choices. But you can still be his friend. It was his isolation that bent him to Jenova’s will. If you do not wish to be his lover, tell him so, and support him if he’s hurt. You’re both adults.”

Cloud stared into the phone at Vincent; Cid did the same to Vincent’s profile. Cloud spoke first as he wiped at both eyes. “This is why I talk to you guys…” he mumbled. “You’ve got it worked out already.”

Vincent raised a brow and shook his head. “What do you mean?”

Cid drew his finger across his throat in a small, quick gesture. Cloud looked between both of them in confusion. “I thought you two… were?”

Vincent lifted his head and moved his eyes toward Cid, mouth parted in a silent “oh.” Cid felt his own face heat up; As soon as Cloud hung up with them, he was probably dead meat.

“We’re not a couple, Cloud. We simply work together very well.” Vincent pressed his lips in a thin smile to Cloud. “At least, we _did._ Alas, poor Cid…”

Cid pretended the wall of his quarters were very interesting while he could feel Vincent’s eyes on him again, probably staring daggers into his head for somehow giving Cloud the impression that they were already lovers. “Cloud, when I die, you get the _Shera._ Don’t let Reeve have it. Gaea knows what parts of it he’ll make _talk_.”

Cloud laughed on the other end of the phone and bid them goodbye. “Don’t leave too many pieces, Vincent. We’ll need _something_ to bury.”

“I’m afraid it’s cremation for Cid,” said Vincent. “Goodbye, Cloud.”

“Bye. Sorry, Cid.”

“Bye, you little rat…” Cid shut off the video chat on his phone and put it aside. Vincent, still beside him, leaned into his space. “Don’t glare at me like that! Ain’t my fault he jumped to a conclusion!”

“A conclusion he would not have jumped to if not being led to it. Did you give Cloud the impression we were already an item? Perhaps you have already written ballads in my name?” asked Vincent. He unclasped his cowl so Cid could see his lips perfectly as he continued. “Will I find a notebook with ‘Mr. Cid Valentine’ drawn in little hearts somewhere in your room?”

Cid sputtered and slid back along his bed until he hit the wall. Vincent prowled right after him on all fours, the breadth of his mantle and long limbs trapped Cid on his own bed. It was nearly something out of a wet dream for Cid, except they both wore entirely too much clothing. “Hey, don’t get pissy with me, sweetheart! I don’t doodle little hearts, and who says I’m takin’ yer last name? ‘Vincent Highwind’ sounds way better, in my opinion!”

Vincent moved until he was nose to nose with Cid and Cid felt wonderfully, painfully trapped, as Vincent sat on his legs. “Perhaps it does.” He paused and Cid could see that mirthful, orange glint in his eyes. “Did you intend on somehow seducing me with your manly wiles when we were alone up there?”

Cid threw back his head and started to laugh, then hissed in pain and then he laughed again as he rubbed where he smacked his head on the wall. “Didya just say ‘manly wiles?’” Vincent maintained his position without even a blink of his eyes and that made Cid laugh even more. A faint smirk flickered on Vincent’s lips. “So, you ain’t mad?”

Vincent shrugged out of his mantle and let it slide off the bed and onto the floor. “Of course not. However, I am concerned that we already seem to give the impression of being romantically linked. I know that I consented to allowing you to feel as you will about me, but that is, as far as I knew, a recent development. How did he learn of your affections for me before I even did?” He rolled over and dropped his head onto Cid’s lap, dark hair spilled everywhere like the roots of a tree.

Cid smirked and pulled off one of his own gloves and moved a strand of hair away from where it had gotten stuck to Vincent’s lips. “No idea, baby.” He tucked away the errant strand and smoothed his thumb over Vincent’s cheek. “Can’t be the way we act around each other. I mean, we hardly spent any time together this last month.”

Vincent huffed and rolled onto his side, his hands carefully encircled Cid’s leg. “And it’s not like I trust you. You almost always handle me inappropriately,” he said as he closed his eyes. “You _hugged_ me. Completely manhandled me,” he concluded, dry as ever.

A gentle laugh came out of Cid, which made Vincent’s lips turn in a small smile. “You know me. Cid Highwind, Man-handler. _Doctor_ Man-handler.” Cid adjusted his free leg and leaned over Vincent. “You seem comfortable.”

Vincent’s eye opened in a thin sliver of red as he peeked up at Cid. “I could use a nap. I haven’t slept in days.” He stretched and repositioned himself against Cid’s thigh. “Some loudmouth needed to be taken care of because he didn’t know better than to not poke a mutant fungus. He had me worried for his health.” His eye closed again when he spotted the faint grin on Cid’s face. “Wake me when we get to Edge.”

“Can do, sweetheart.” Cid leaned back and closed his eyes. He was not tired anymore, but perfectly content to let Vincent rest on him. As he remained still and quiet, his fingers curled over a single strand of Vincent’s hair. When he was certain Vincent was asleep, Cid kissed the tips of his index and middle fingers and then touched them, very lightly, to Vincent’s cheek.

 

Meanwhile, many miles and a time zone away, Cloud sat on his Honeybee bed and stared at his phone. There were several missed calls; three from Tifa, two from Reeve and four from Sephiroth. Cloud’s thumb lingered over the “play” option when Mukki returned, one of the Honeybees of the Inn waiting at the door.

“You look down, bubby,” said Mukki. He sat beside Cloud and put a heavy arm across his shoulders. “I thought Mukki’s Magic Massage would have made you all better. You even fell asleep! Can I no longer please a young man?” he asked, a small, pouty lip poked out from under his great mustache.

Cloud sighed and leaned into his larger friend. After the events of Meteorfall, Mukki had taken over the Honeybee – without Don Corneo or ShinRa loyal to patronize the Inn, there had been a threat of the old bordello going down with the rest of Wall Market. Somehow, Mukki had managed to keep it afloat, and the Inn and the Honeybees had managed to help the impoverished area recover and flourish under a sort of proletariat council. With his and Tifa’s help in the care and assistance to the homeless, they had all become natural allies.

“Mukki, you know it’s not you… Hell, I at least got some sleep. It’s just…”

“Your thoughts are all over the place and you can’t corral them.” Mukki rubbed Cloud’s back with a light touch. “Perhaps you should stop being Cloud for a while, hmm?”

Cloud looked up for a bit at the older man, who smiled warmly down to him. Mukki looked over to the Bee at the door, who waved anxiously. “Maybe let Cloud take a break and treat yourself… _differently_.”

The moment it dawned on him, Cloud’s mouth hung slack a moment before he smiled to both of them. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Maybe a little mental break from _me_ is in order,” agreed Cloud as he got up to approach the Honeybee at the door; Mukki followed right behind him.

“I knew you’d agree, bubby. Mukki knows best.”

Cloud chuckled over his shoulder as the girl, Marceline, eagerly grabbed Cloud’s hand and started to drag him toward the back rooms. “You’re a mentor in a mankini, Mukki. Don’t ever change.”

“Never do, darling, except to shave,” Mukki replied as he stroked his elegantly trimmed mustache. “You let them take care of you and you’ll feel much better.”

As soon as Cloud was in the room marked “The Hive,” Marceline and a couple more of the Inn’s worker bees began to strip Cloud, and got him completely naked. He was never embarrassed by his own nudity – having been subjected to much, _much_ worse in his life and perfectly aware of what was coming, Cloud actually began to relax.

Once he was fully undressed, the girls cooed and argued over the best way to redress him. A few colors were shouted out before Cloud lifted his hand and pointed. “Those. I like those. They’re cute.” So, it was decided. Soft green with pink bow accents, in both bra and panties, were slid over his arms and up his legs, followed by sheer black thigh-highs. A dress was next, form-fitted and deep violet; it was a simple sleeveless dress with side slits bridged by see-through black. Cloud caught a peek of himself in one of the room’s mirrors and shivered pleasantly. It had been a while since he’d been treated to a new look, and maybe the introduction of Sephiroth to “Miss Cloud” would be… fun. He smiled mischievously at his own reflection as he was seated before a vanity.

“You know, girls, if any of you are off tonight, I think Tifa’s having a Ladies’ Night at 7Th Heaven,” said Cloud. He watched while some pale blond extensions were fixed near the back of his head. In the years since his first foray into femininity, Cloud learned a few things: He was an A cup, how to fight in high heels, and that he preferred the flexibility of extensions to even a top-grade wig.

Hair (and extensions) were styled, makeup and eyelashes were applied and a pair of shoes stepped into before _Miss_ Cloud stood in front of a full-length mirror to check the final product. Cloud turned around to inspect their work, with the Honeybees nearby as they anxiously awaited a verdict.

Cloud smoothed his hands over his hips and waist, then blew himself a kiss and grinned.

“Perfect,” he said, to a gaggle of applause and then a sudden group hug. As Cloud returned each embrace with gentle thanks for each girl who had helped him, Mukki returned to the “Hive.”

“I’m sorry, girls. I was looking for a young man named Cloud, but I can’t seem to find him anywhere!” he teased. “But, who is this young lady with you? She’s quite lovely, but so familiar…” Mukki lifted Cloud’s manicured hand to his lips and kissed the back of his knuckles. Cloud couldn’t help but smile. He knew Mukki only played at confusion, but sometimes, being treated like a girl was more fun than bearing the weight that came with being Cloud **Strife**.

“Mukki, _stop_ ,” said Cloud, but he giggled at the attention anyway. Dressed as Miss Cloud, he softened his own voice and felt his whole demeanor shift as Cloud Strife, Planet Protector, took a backseat to Miss Cloud, Total Hottie. “You’re too sweet.” He hugged Mukki’s arm and smiled up to him. “Thanks for suggesting this. I don’t know how you can tell what I need.”

“I’m a professional, bubby. I’ve gotta know what my precious dears need,” Mukki replied, with a light hand on Cloud’s shoulder. “Now, do you want me to have your bike delivered for you? I don’t think you’re going to straddle that metal beast in that skirt.”

Cloud looked down at where the skirt stopped, just above mid-thigh and nodded his agreement. “Absolutely. Mind if I take the ladies out for lunch as a thank you? Would you come with?”

“Unfortunately, bubby, I still have things to manage here, but please, take whomever you like. You and I can have a raincheck date later.” Mukki let Cloud go with a deep chuckle. “And please, visit again soon. You were so wound tight, I thought you were going to snap.”

Cloud blushed and bowed his head to Mukki. “I will certainly try.” As he turned to the Honeybees with him, the girls all tittered, some already started to change into casual clothing. “Now, who’s hungry?”


	5. Two Shots From Behind the Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss Cloud visits 7th Heaven.

He might have spent a little too much on lunch with “the girls.” He might _not_ have needed a new pair of shoes – the ones he had been given weren’t about right, but after some encouragement from the Honeybees who were free to hang out with Miss Cloud, he got the shoes.

They were black, platform and made his legs and ass look _fantastic_. In both his own opinion and the girls who shopped with him. An additional four inches of height was nothing to sneeze at either, considering he might almost be able to look Sephiroth in the eye without the man needing to stoop.

 _I wonder what he’ll think…_ Cloud asked himself as he and Marceline, Bebe and Lucy – the only Honeybee workers who had the evening off, piled into a cab together. “Seventh Heaven, please,” Cloud instructed. “It’s Ladies’ Night and I think we all could use a break.”

_He probably never believed me about the panties…_

The line outside of 7th Heaven was relatively short, but it still surprised Cloud that there was a line _at all,_ considering this had been only the second Ladies’ Night Tifa hosted since she took on Sephiroth as a bouncer. But, that it was Sephiroth who worked the door, just as unflappable on a battlefield as he was about turning away underage persons who tried to slip him a phony ID, Cloud was certain it was going to be a relatively safe space.

“You three get in line. I’ll talk to the bouncer and see you inside, okay?” said Cloud as he gestured to the front. “He’s my roommate.”

“Oh my gosh, Cloud, you **live** with _that?_ And you needed to come to the Inn? Does he reek or something?” asked Bebe. “I mean, he’s _hot._ You’re hot. Why are you not having hot man-babies with him?”

Cloud’s face turned a furious red shade. “That’s not how—he’s just my… friend?”

“If that’s your friend, I wonder what your enemies look like,” sighed Marceline as she ogled Sephiroth from the cab window.

Cloud bit the inside of his cheek and tried, very hard, to pretend he wasn’t just asked that. “Look, I’ve gotta put my bags inside and talk to Tifa. I promise, I’ll get you in,” said Cloud as he escaped through the opposite cab door. Marceline practically hopped up and down at the back of the line to keep her eyes on Sephiroth. Lucy put her hands on Marceline’s shoulders and held her down until she got calmer.

 _Marceline, I love you like family, but we’ll need to talk someday…_ thought Cloud. Marceline was just twenty two, and nearly completely oblivious to his history. Lucy was his age; she was the same one who had gotten him dolled up in the first place, then went on to teach Cloud some of the finer points of contouring. Bebe was a newer addition to the Inn, but Mukki had insisted they’d get along, and he was right. She was quiet, but took no shit from anyone, Cloud included. He admired that.

All in all, he wouldn’t trade the kinship with his Honeybee friends for anything else. Which was why Cloud made it his mission to get them into the bar, regardless if Sephiroth might be annoyed that he hadn’t returned his calls. He could just as easily talk to him later, after Sephiroth’s shift ended.

First and foremost, however, he needed to apologize. Cloud slipped into the alley that ran between 7th Heaven and into the rear entrance to Tifa’s house. He let himself in and stashed his shopping bag and the bag with his clothes in it in her apartment, then headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Denzel leaned over a sink and scrubbed out glass after glass before he noticed Cloud nearby. He looked up and tilted his head in confusion. “Cloud?” he asked. “Is that a new dress?”

Cloud smiled and gave a little twirl. “I’m borrowing it. Does it look good?”

Denzel gagged and shook his head. “You’re like my dad. Or brother. Dad-brother. Should I tell you it looks good?” he asked, his face split into a grin.

“Very funny, wise guy.” Cloud strolled over and put Denzel in a gentle headlock. “Where’s Tifa? Your cross-dressing dad-brother demands to know.”

Denzel squawked and pushed at Cloud’s arms, careful as to not slop soapy water all over him and his borrowed attire. “She’s working the bar, where else? Oh, and because she couldn’t get ahold of _a certain someone,_ she had to get someone else to help with the crowd.”

Cloud frowned and let Denzel go. “But Sephiroth’s on the door.”

“Yeah, no, it’s Elena. I guess after Mr. Valentine put the fear of Gaea into the Turks, they’re being civil? I dunno. Sephiroth seemed okay with it, but I think that’s because we really don’t have any other choice…” said Denzel.

Just as Cloud began to feel the guilt creep in about leaving them all hanging, Tifa burst in with a tray of empty glasses. “Damn, there are a lot of drinks going out already!” she shouted. Cloud stood well back until Tifa had the tray on the kitchen’s center island and she was able to actually see him.

“Tifa…” he started.

She looked up and her lips parted in surprise. “Cloud! You’re okay?” Tifa paused and gave him a once-over, then another and frowned. “You’re not okay. It’s been a while since I’ve seen _Miss_ Cloud,” she said. She helped Denzel load the glasses into the sink before she pulled Cloud aside and into the back hall, where it was quieter. “What’s wrong?”

Cloud folded his hands together; Tifa saw right through him every time, and he was still grateful that he didn’t have to get into too deep a conversation with her to let Tifa know anything was wrong. “I got a call from Cid. Apparently…”

“No, don’t tell me about Cid. Talk to me about _you._ You’re all done up.” Tifa looked down at Cloud’s new shoes. “And you went shopping,” she said as she looked up into his eyes again. “If something’s up…” she began, but Cloud pressed a finger to her lips.

“It’s really complicated. I just… I’ve been fixed on that stupid…”

Tifa pushed his hand away. “That dream again. Sephiroth told me he’s mad at himself for bringing it up at all. But, you’d know that if you checked your messages…”

“Ti…” Cloud rolled his lips together and looked down, already ashamed of himself for hiding from his friends. Just to hear it would hurt even more; last time he did, it was when he was infected with Geostigma, and he’d gotten a stern talking-to about his behavior – along with a lot of tearful hugs.

“No, no, don’t get yourself upset again. You’ll get raccoon eyes.” Tifa smiled sympathetically and hugged him. “But you two _need_ to talk. I’ll moderate if you need me to. I just don’t want a metaphoric Nibelheim on my hands.”

Cloud sniffed and nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah, yeah, accepted, you dork. You owe me a shopping trip and a night out now, you know.” Tifa grinned and poked at his side. “I’m gonna be the hot bar chick for a change.”

“You _are_ a hot bar chick, Tifa. You just happen to _own_ the b-“ Just as Cloud was about to say ‘bar,’ there was a loud bang and Elena’s shouts from the kitchen, and they could hear Denzel say “it’s on the wall!” Among the other noise, Cloud could hear Sephiroth’s grumbles and Elena as she tried to soothe what seemed to be an angry Sephiroth.

Tifa and Cloud looked to each other before they headed in and found Denzel and Elena attempt to corral Sephiroth on a folding chair, with the first aid kit open on the center island. Sephiroth leaned back and glared at the ceiling, with bloody streaks down the right side of his face. His breath came in sharp and quick snorts through his nose, like a Behemoth about to drop a Flare.

“The hell happened?!” asked Tifa.

“He caught some creep trying to take upskirt shots of the girls in the bar and, naturally, the guy didn’t take kindly to Seph totally crushing the guy’s phone!” squeaked Elena. She had peroxide in one hand and gauze in the other, but Sephiroth seemed just a little too twitchy for her to get much closer.

Tifa stepped in and took away the medical supplies from Elena before she poked him in the eye or something, and set them down. “What happened after that?”

“Before he could throw the asshole out, the dude smashed him in the face with a mug! I’ve seen Reno take those things to the head and still go down! But it shattered on his _freaking face!_ ” Elena continued. “Then he chucked the guy like, a hundred feet!”

“Reno is not a SOLDIER,” said Sephiroth. His breathing had calmed somewhat, but the shards of thick glass stuck in his cheek and forehead needed to be removed. Cloud was certain Sephiroth’s “calm” was anything but. “And it wasn’t that far. Thirty at the most.” His head was still tipped back, so he looked at the ceiling to keep the blood from dripping into his eye.

“Okay, okay, Elena, go back out to the bar and make sure that creep stays out. Denzel, go clean up the glass before someone else gets hurt,” said Tifa as she took charge. “Cloud, you go out and have fun. I’ve got this…” she added.

“Cloud?” asked Sephiroth. He hummed softly and went silent. Elena and Denzel looked at Cloud, and then Elena grabbed Denzel and dragged him out to the bar. “Boss lady says ‘clean up,’ you clean up, kid…”

Cloud cleared his throat and came closer to where Sephiroth sat. “Yeah, um… Hi?”

Sephiroth kept his eyes on the light fixture over his head and stayed still while Tifa donned a pair of gloves and carefully removed the glass stuck in his face with the tweezers from the first aid kit.

“Ah, this is so gross,” she muttered. “I can see your face healing as soon as I pull them out.” Tifa dropped the shards onto a prepared paper towel to throw away. “This rapid healing thing you both do is freaky.” Sephiroth still said nothing and sat perfectly still while Tifa took care of him. Though the wounds closed over as quickly as they could, Sephiroth’s face still sported a mighty purple bruise.

“It’s not too fun to feel when it’s happening. I think I miss bandages and potion salves,” murmured Cloud. “And it still hurts like hell, even the minor injuries.”

“The wonders of Mako usage as it improves the human condition,” groaned Sephiroth. He flinched and hissed when Tifa pulled out a piece near his eye. The longer, bloody shard was dropped onto the towel with the rest and Tifa looked away before she gagged at the hole as it began to close.

“Oh god, that’s gross…” whispered Tifa.

“It’s not any better to feel…” repeated Sephiroth. “But, I may be able to make it up to you.” He leaned forward and touched, gingerly, at his own face to feel for any smaller splinters of glass. “He left his receipt on the table. He used a card.”

Tifa threw the broken glass and gloves into a separate plastic bag for proper disposal. “So I can charge him for a replacement _and_ get Elena to trace his name?” Tifa grinned as Sephiroth pulled the slip out from his pocket while Cloud just stood by and watched. He felt a little useless and almost jealous.

“Since when do you two get along so well?” interrupted Cloud. He folded his arms over his chest and cocked his hips to one side. “I thought you two were still… you know… tense?”

Tifa looked to Sephiroth and he glanced back at her. Tifa shrugged and looked back at Cloud, her own position mirrored his. Sephiroth got up from his seat and put the folding chair back where Denzel had gotten it. “Well,” started Tifa. “We talk. And he’s a good employee. Never late, brings me coffee sometimes. Shares his tips with Denzel…” Sephiroth pulled off his dirty shirt and rubbed at the bloody areas on his face; Cloud avoided staring by keeping eye contact with Tifa. “I don’t go easy on him and he accepts it without complaint. It’s not perfect, no idea if it’s healthy, but so far it’s working.”

Sephiroth nodded and threw his shirt over his shoulder. “I have a lot to make up for, still.” He looked over Cloud’s attire, apparently finally taking it in. “You look lovely.” There was no hint of humor or even sarcasm – just a nod of his head and a polite little smile of acknowledgement. “Where have you been, anyway?” he asked. Tifa left the room to find Sephiroth another 7th Heaven shirt or just something he could wear that wasn’t bloodied and stunk of beer.

“I was staying at the Honeybee. I know the owner.” Cloud shifted from one foot to the other. Sephiroth was wholly unperturbed by his appearance, which made Cloud wonder what he really thought. Silence for the sake of kindness was a familiar way of how he hid things. “His girls gave me a little makeover.”

“I see.” Sephiroth’s smile remained polite and as he spoke, Cloud realized it was out of restraint. “Your usual attire was unsuitable?”

Cloud smoothed his skirt down and fidgeted with the hem. It suddenly felt a little too short, too much of his body exposed, vulnerable. Maybe it was the fact that they were alone. “Well, it _was_ dirty… and, maybe it’s easier to say that I needed to shed… uh, myself and feel pretty.”

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow and nodded, just once. “Very well. I honestly have no idea what that actually means, since you shouldn’t _need_ to feel pretty, but if it works to make you feel better… Ah, thank you.” Tifa returned with another shirt, a little smaller, that he put on right away. “I may very well double my tips…” he murmured as he tried, futilely, to pull the shirt down enough to meet the top of his jeans.

Cloud stared at Sephiroth, lips parted slightly as he tried to puzzle out what Sephiroth meant. _I shouldn’t **need** to feel pretty? Does that mean he thinks I already am? _ Cloud asked internally. _Or does he think I just shouldn’t… God damnit! I am reading way too far into it. It’s **Sephiroth**._

“Have a good time, Cloud,” Sephiroth had said, which Cloud hardly registered him saying until Sephiroth had returned to his duties on the floor. And Cloud had yet to tell him to even allow in the girl’s he’d come with.

Tifa rested a hand on his shoulder and got Cloud out of his thoughts before they ran off into dangerous territory involving feelings, potential hookups and visions of a future Cloud had become adamant about avoiding – least of which the very real possibility that there was a little boy out there, who waited to be found, but they had not even discovered yet without a clue as to _where_ to even look.

“Cloud, you need to get out of your head.” Tifa took Cloud by both shoulders and stood in his line of sight. “I can smell the Mako burning. I think you need to wake up Miss Cloud out there and milk some attention out of whoever you can. When you’re ready to bring back Mister Cloud, let me know, okay?”

He nodded at Tifa’s parting words as she went back out to handle the bar crowd.

_I can do this. I’m here, I look great, and no one’s pissed off. Sephiroth and I can… talk later._

Shoulders squared, head up, Cloud headed out to the bar, confident that he could still have a good time.

 

Two hours later, Cloud sat at the bar by himself and stirred ice in his third glass of Glacier Gold with a swizzle stick. Bebe, Marceline and Lucy had a great time as they danced together. Cloud had joined them, but when they parted the improvised dance floor (with 7th Heaven’s tables stored elsewhere) for a slow song, they announced they had to leave. Bebe was sick, Marceline a little too drunk and Lucy too responsible to not get her friends to their homes safely, not that Cloud blamed her. When he offered to join them, Lucy just told him to have a good time and gave him a kiss on the cheek before they parted ways. That left him to sit by himself, and he felt a little self-conscious about being by himself, even though 7th Heaven had literally been his home.

Elena entered his line of sight with a tray of mugs that needed to be washed out and dropped the tray near Cloud with a grunt. “I’ll say this, Tifa’s big guns explain how she’s able to haul this shit around all day. I think I’m getting muscles I didn’t have before,” she complained as she lifted an arm. Since it had been a warm night, Elena opted to slice the sleeve off her 7th Heaven tee; she flexed her arm, which Cloud had to admit, was well toned, but was maybe half the girth of Tifa’s biceps. “See that bump? Totally muscle.”

Cloud licked his swizzle stick and observed Elena’s “muscle growth” with a tame smile. “You’re getting beefy.”

“Speaking of which, have you seen General Beefcake? I think Tifa gave him that shirt on purpose,” grumbled Elena. “That jerk is getting, like _all_ the tips! I think I saw someone stuff Gil in his pants when he lifted a tray.”

Cloud gave a snort and shook his head. “He is a handsome man, and there are a lot of women here, because, you know… _Ladies’ Night_.” Cloud smirked and turned just enough to see Sephiroth haul a larger tub of glasses and plates into the kitchen for Denzel to wash. He looked back at Elena and took a sip of his beer. “Speaking of the good General… how come you’re, you know, not trying to shoot him?”

Elena leaned on the bar, partially hidden behind the tray of glasses. Cloud could see she was grateful for the break and maybe itching to gossip. “Well, since Reeve gave Rufus that verbal spanking for waving his piece around like he still owned everything under the sun, work’s been kinda slow. Bossman has been holed up in his office…”

“No, I mean, why aren’t you terrified of him and ready to enact some vendetta? Tifa broke his jaw when he first came back. I nearly took off his arm.”

Elena’s eyes turned wide and she stood up to peer over at Tifa, who chatted up some patrons at a table. Tifa tucked her hair behind her ear as she laughed and Elena blushed and hid her face behind her hands. “She busted his face and now she’s his manager. That’s so… _Tifa_.”

Cloud smirked. “So, aside from your thing for Tifa-“

“I don’t have a ‘thing!’ I am an adult. Adults don’t get… _things_.”

Cloud laughed at Elena’s expense and shifted where he sat on his bar stool. “Anyway, you don’t seem to have a lot against him.”

Elena shrugged and tossed her hair back, with her hands on her hips. “Unlike some people, I… well, Sephiroth the Big, Bad and Scary was kind of a myth, even as a Turk. Remember, I was a total newbie when he killed ShinRa Senior. The war in Wutai, hell, even the Nibelheim events all happened when I was just a wee runt of a trainee. Shit, I couldn’t even fire a gun without falling on my ass.” She grinned at Cloud when he chuckled again. The mental image of a scrawny twig of a teenage Elena flying backwards into the dirt was a little too adorable, but believable.

“So, the whole Sephiroth thing was, like, abstract. You were a million miles away in Nibelheim, right? You only heard what ShinRa wanted you to about the war. All I really knew him for were his achievements, and that he’d gone AWOL. He wasn’t officially declared dead until after… Fair was.” Elena dropped her voice and scratched at the back of her head. “Sorry. Again, I only knew what they told me. But I don’t hold anything personal against Sephiroth because I just don’t have… what all you guys do. That creepy teenager he created, though… the one that _shot me_ at point blank range… If he ever brings back that little shit, I’m going to kick his balls so hard, they’re gonna fly out of his mouth.”

Cloud frowned at the mention of Zack, but didn’t hold it against Elena for bringing it up. Her tendency to carry on gave him someone to talk to, even if he actually let her do all the work. Though her last sentence made him laugh again, and Cloud was glad that they had whatever weird relationship they did with the Turks, even if Rufus continued to be a nuisance.

“I’m sure he appreciates that not everyone is trying to actively kill him,” Cloud offered. “So, you’re here, helping Tifa out of the _kindness_ of your heart…” he teased. Elena squawked indignantly and picked up her tray.

“You’re awful! Drink your beer already!” shouted Elena as she carried the glasses to the other end of the counter and started to load them into the sink.

Cloud chuckled at Elena and her relentless crush on Tifa, even if she vehemently denied it. At least talking to her had lifted his spirits somewhat, and the bar scene itself was fairly calm at that point. The attempted “club” atmosphere dissolved as more of the active visitors had drifted to the edges of the room, all engrossed in conversation. Most of them seemed fairly content in their little groups.

Cloud considered that he might change into his regular clothing and help Tifa out when someone sat beside him and occupied his whole visual space. Cloud sat up straighter as he looked at the unfamiliar man; the stranger had sun-kissed skin and dark hair in a neat crew cut. He had a strong jaw and almost pouty lips; His smile was framed with a neatly trimmed goatee and his eyes would have been typical puppy eyes except they were a striking Mako-blue. Cloud looked away suddenly when he realized this guy was likely ex-SOLDIER.

_Not good… he might recognize…_

“Your friends ditch you?” asked the man. He didn’t lean into Cloud’s space, but had his back completely turned to the bar. “I noticed you were sitting here, alone. If you want me to leave, I can…”

Cloud swallowed and remembered himself. “I don’t know if I’m the type of girl you’re looking for,” he replied in a quiet voice. His AVALANCHE family had been quite accepting of the whole “Miss Cloud” thing, but their love and respect was far different from popular opinion.

“Maybe, maybe not. I just couldn’t help but notice you’re only on a third drink. If you’re looking to get drunk, you’ll have to hit the heavier stuff a lot faster if you want to breach the whole SOLDIER tolerance level,” the man offered. “Not that it’s easy to do in the first place.”

“…So, are you saying you’re too cheap to get drunk?” replied Cloud. He gave the man a stern look, but it seemed ineffective as the man just dissolved into soft laughter. “You’re a SOLDIER. It must take a lot to get you wasted.”

“ _Ex-_ SOLDIER, emphasis on the ‘ex’ part. And you’re Cloud Strife.” The man turned and waved two fingers at Elena; she uncapped a couple of beers and slid the bottles their way. “Hard to miss a look like yours, even if you’re dressed different.”

“A look like mine?” asked Cloud. He stole one of the beers before it could be offered to him and threw it back. It was chugged down in seconds; he’d be a discredit to his Nibel heritage if he couldn’t take down a bottled Midgar brand. “You’re not very good at compliments, buddy.”

The man stared in surprise at the beer being gone so quickly, but he just chuckled in amusement. “I know. I’m shitty at this. I just mean your eyes are hard to forget when you see them on the news for acts of valor and heroism.”

Cloud shook his head and huffed. “I’m not a hero. I just did what’s right. I’m sure, if anyone else were capable, they would have stepped up.”

“That’s just it. No one else was _capable_ of just taking down Sephiroth. Or that Summon that his cronies pulled out of nowhere. That’s what happened, right?” the man asked. “Some Sephiroth followers got ahold of Bahamut materia…”

“That’s not exactly it, but the real story…” Cloud just sipped at his Glacier Gold; it had gotten watery from the melted ice, and he cringed for letting it get that way. “The real story is very complicated.”

The man smiled and nodded, apparently glad to hear it. “I’d like to know the real story. Some time. Doesn’t have to be now. At the moment, I’m enjoying talking to you. What’s got you hanging out in the corner, sulking?”

“I wasn’t…”

“You totally had the sulk posture going.” The man smiled and looked down and rubbed the back of his head. “You want me to leave you alone?”

Cloud watched Sephiroth and Tifa as they worked; he could see them pass behind the man sitting with him. They were too busy to afford him the attention a deep conversation would require, and his new companion at least offered him a distraction. “No, it’s fine. My friends are all working.”

“Your friends?” The man turned around to watch Tifa walk the floor and Sephiroth passed into view. “Wait… isn’t that…I thought…” He spun back around to look at Cloud with a confused expression that bordered on adorable.

“I told you, it’s _really_ complicated. But yeah, that’s him. Almost three months crazy free, no incidents. Maybe I should get him a token,” said Cloud, as he wondered what Sephiroth would make of some sort of anniversary gift with ‘Three Months, Murder Free’ written on it.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. How the mighty have fallen, I guess…”

Cloud sipped at his drink again and leaned closer to his new companion. “So, do you have a name, because right now, I’m just referring to you in my head as ‘this guy’ and it’s a little weird.”

The stranger grinned and leaned a little closer. “You can call me Kay.”

“Kay? I guess I don’t need any introduction.” Cloud stuck out his hand to shake – Kay surprised Cloud by taking his hand and pulling it up to his lips and very lightly pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. Cloud reminded to kick himself later for blushing like a schoolgirl over the greeting, but, with the way he as feeling, he was open to some aggressive flirting.

“You certainly don’t. Though, with their way you’re dressed… is there a way you prefer to be called? I don’t want to offend…”

“I, uh… not really. Cloud’s fine. There was a small joke with my friends calling me ‘Miss Cloud’ and it kind of stuck, but I don’t…”

Kay leaned in and kept his voice just low enough so that only he could hear. “Hey, it’s okay. I think you look great. You have… really good legs. And you’re pretty, but I’m sure you get that a lot…”

Cloud giggled and looked away. “The shy flirting doesn’t work as well as some of you guys think, you know.” Still, it was nice to hear, and Kay’s delivery, though cheesy, seemed genuine and sweet. At the very least, he tried.

Kay grinned and scooted a little closer on his stool. “You laughed.”

“Only because you’re a dork.”

“I prefer ‘dork’ to ‘loser.’”

Cloud smirked and turned in his seat so he faced Kay entirely. “So, Kay. You obviously came over here for a reason. To test your atrocious flirting skills or maybe because you’re the type of guy who doesn’t like to see a girl sitting all by herself.” Cloud lifted one leg and crossed it over the other, which made his skirt slide a little further up his thigh. The top of his stocking was exposed, along with a bare patch of skin between stocking and hem that he noticed Kay’s eyes move to, then away when he was caught looking. “I thought so.”

Kay blushed as he gave an answer. “Well, I do prefer my girls to, uh…”

“Have a little something extra?” Cloud leaned in and put one foot on a rung of Kay’s stool and looked at him closely. If he answered wrong, Kay was going right on the floor and Cloud had no illusions that Sephiroth wouldn’t come running at the commotion and put Kay in the dumpster. “People like me aren’t a fetish to you, are we?”

Kay sat back and shook his head, brows down as he scowled. “No way. I came over here because I really did think you looked like you needed a friend, and when I realized who you are, I just wanted to talk. You just happen to be very attractive up close and I’m still human. I didn’t even come here looking for myself. I’m here with friends.” He gestured back toward the booth he’d come from. Two girls sat in conversation, one that said the room could have been on fire and they probably wouldn’t have noticed.

Cloud rolled his red-stained lips together in thought. Kay seemed ready to take off if Cloud wanted him to go, and he wasn’t bad to look at, for that matter. Tifa and Sephiroth could handle closing the bar. Elena had the counter under wraps.

“Are your friends going to miss you?” asked Cloud.

Kay looked back and his table and snorted. “Hell no. I don’t even think they noticed I left. They don’t get to go out together that often.”

Cloud smirked and slid off his stool. “I think I could use some air. You’re welcome to join me.”

 

Another two hours later, at Kay’s apartment, naked, sweaty and thoroughly fucked senseless, Cloud made a mental note to thank Mukki for his suggestion before he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Cloud's dress: http://www.dearlover.net/otherImage/7/2014-04-17-12/201404171214529781363.jpg is the best example that happened to kind of have even his hair style included.
> 
> For Kay: picture a slightly tanned Chris Evans, lol.


	6. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth wakes up at Tifa's, then goes for a walk. Feels ahead.

Sephiroth groaned and rolled over. He opened his eyes and observed the ceiling over him and it took him a minute to recall where he was. Tifa’s ceiling was over his head where he lay, and his muscles ached. Tifa had kept him up until the early morning hours and his body paid for it. He sat up where he was and heard footsteps approach him.

Elena crept into the living room, her boots in hand, which she dropped when Sephiroth sat up on Tifa’s couch. “Holy shit, you scared me!” she hissed. “I forgot you were still here.”

“Apologies,” grunted Sephiroth as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I could say the same of you.” He gave Elena’s disheveled appearance a quick glance and smirked. “Sleep well?”

Elena blushed and picked up a boot and threw it at him, which he caught effortlessly and dropped on the floor. “Thank you, but I have my own,” he said as he stood with a pop of his spine and a hiss of pain. The button of his jeans came unstuck from his skin and stung when it pulled. “Why does that always hurt?” he muttered as he rubbed the pink mark.

“Oosh, the ‘second’ belly button, right?” asked Elena. “That’s what you get for sleeping in jeans,” she said as she passed Sephiroth on the way to the kitchen. “What’s she got to eat, anyway?” she continued as she began to dig through Tifa’s cabinets in search for food.

Sephiroth entered behind her and reached over Elena’s head to open the cereal cabinet. “Do you think there might be something in that big metal box?” he asked as he pointed out the refrigerator.

Elena slapped at his bare stomach and huffed. “Never figured you for the sarcastic type. I heard you were too dry to make jokes,” she replied. As she turned away, Sephiroth could see her flex her fingers and mouth the word “ow” several times.

“For a Turk, you don’t seem to know a lot about these people. They’re terrible influences,” Sephiroth replied. He opened the fridge and dug out eggs, bacon and butter. “I’ve learned all sorts of awful things. Bad jokes, sarcasm, a fraction of the Highwind Dictionary, how to make a Lifestream Longbomb…”

Elena sat at Tifa’s counter and left Sephiroth to do the work of making breakfast, not that he particularly minded, but he also did not trust her to not poison him. “The hell’s a Lifestream Longbomb and how can I get one?”

Tifa popped up beside Elena and planted a kiss on her cheek, as well as her arm over Elena’s slim shoulders. “It’s six ounces of Kalm Ale with a double shot of Hero Drink served in a tall glass,” she said as she sat beside Elena. “Great if you want to get drunk and be incredibly stupid.”

“Should have just called it ‘Reno’,” chuckled Elena.

Sephiroth choked on the milk he had started to drink and had to turn away to fetch a napkin when he started to dribble on himself. Tifa and Elena started to giggle over his mistake, so he turned his attention back to the pan on the stove. “I laugh because it’s true,” he protested. “Now, who wants _me_ to cook and who would rather have cold cereal?” he asked.

Denzel joined Tifa and Elena at the counter and voiced his opinion. “You’re cookin’?” he moaned, still half-asleep as he leaned into Tifa for support. “I could sleep for another day…” the boy continued. Sephiroth peeked behind him and watched Denzel half-snooze on Tifa’s shoulder before he got to make their breakfasts. The addition of Elena to the family unit didn’t seem to faze the boy one bit.

He envied Denzel for his adaptability.

 

Hours later, after Sephiroth had finished helping Tifa set the tables back up in 7th Heaven, she had given him the day off with his pay. He decided to go for a walk, on an indirect path that would eventually take him through the shopping district he and Cloud had visited a few times together.

_Together…_ he thought to himself, as he strolled by shop after shop with his hands in his jacket pockets. The weather had set a chill in the air, the warm, late summer he’d returned to life in given way to an onset of fall. He had never really taken stock in the weather around him in Midgar; on the Plate, the seasons had been exceptionally mild compared to the conditions he had seen around the world. Still, the breeze that blew past him felt colder, touched his face with a hint of the coming winter chill and stained his cheeks a soft pink, as he saw himself reflected in the windows he passed.

_Three months… it’s the longest I’ve ever been inactive… not counting death…_ thought Sephiroth. The few people on the street who had places to be ignored him. Cloud had made it seem like he would fend off a different attacker every other day, but he felt forgotten in a city that had rebuilt itself from the ruins. Ruins that he had a hand in creating.

Everyone had business to attend to, someone to see, and someone to go home to… _Stop that. You’re going to hurt yourself,_ he said to the unpleasant voice in his head as he stopped by a storefront for no other reason than to compose himself. _Cloud found someone else last night, probably hasn’t checked his messages… just as well, who needs to hear you whine and whimper after them?_

“Stop it,” he whispered to himself. “I don’t need this.” Sephiroth lifted his head and looked around. He spotted a café and hurried across the street toward it. Even if he didn’t get anything, just to leave that spot, to literally leave those thoughts behind him, it was something.

Sephiroth leaned on the side of the building and leaned forward. His breathing was labored and harsh and he suddenly felt dizzy. _You’re going to die alone… the Ancient just wanted to fool you, wanted you to be a good boy and feel pain and agony and **guilt** again, so you would spare her precious planet._

“STOP!” he shouted, and banged his fist on the café wall. A chunk of concrete broke off and hit the ground beside him. He looked up when he saw movement come from inside; he had startled patrons and a server with the noise he made. A woman in an apron looked up from where she served coffee and started to head toward the door. Sephiroth saw her approach and began to walk away from the café before a confrontation was had.

Sephiroth got about ten feet from the café when he heard, “Sir? Sir, wait!” come from behind him. He tried to pretend to not hear her, even as she jogged to catch up with his quickened pace. A hand was looped under his arm and Sephiroth smothered the impulse to defend himself before he left a poor bystander dead on the pavement.

“Sir, please, stop,” came the woman’s gentle voice. “Are you all right?”

Sephiroth turned, slowly, and looked down at the woman. He had no idea what he must have looked like then, his hair a little stringy and not properly brushed down, wearing clothing that slightly stunk of alcohol and dish soap, and whatever his face did to make her look up at him with an expression that read somewhere between pity and fear.

“Honestly, no,” Sephiroth said as he tried to pull his arm free. “I’m sorry about your building. I can pay for the damage…” he offered as he tried to tug away from the woman’s grip. She didn’t look to have any Mako in her system, yet Sephiroth found himself without the will to yank away from another human being.

“If you can pay for some concrete, you can pay for a cup of tea. Why don’t you come back and I’ll make you a fresh cup?” she insisted. The woman had both hands on his arm at that point, and it took her very little effort to get him to come along, like his body betrayed him in desperate need for human contact.

_What am I doing?_ Sephiroth asked himself as he was drawn along and into the café. He was pushed into a chair in the corner, away from the windows, at a small table with a lacy tablecloth protected by a vinyl sheet over it. “I really should just pay for the damage to your building…” Sephiroth repeated as a delicate teacup and saucer were placed before him, as well as a small wooden box with a selection of hand-blended teabags opened to him.

Sephiroth sighed and slumped in his seat as he picked out a flavor; the tea’s swirly, handwritten card promised relaxation and a soothed stomach as a medicinal property. Once the tea was chosen, another piece of handwritten material was placed on the table beside his cup – a small menu of the day’s chosen baked goods. “I’m not really hun-“

“Something small. Tea’s always best with a little something extra. Maybe something sweet, or rich and creamy?” asked the café girl. That this young woman happened to have soft blue eyes and strawberry blond hair really had little to do with his decision to stay. At least, that was what Sephiroth told himself.

“Very well. A chocolate tart,” replied Sephiroth. A quick glance and he located her nametag, “If you please, Jayna.”

Jayna smiled warmly and went behind the counter to prepare his tart and the water for his tea. Sephiroth felt eyes on him and he looked around at the other patrons. An elderly couple looked at him with concern in their eyes – _Probably old enough to worry that I am that same man who led world wars…_ he thought to himself. He lowered his head and tried to slump in his seat, if only to not seem like the man from so many people’s nightmares. He couldn’t have played the part of his old self, anyway, not slouched with his hair touching the floor, not as miserable as he felt or must have looked for Jayna to drag him back to the café and insist he have tea.

After a few minutes of waiting, Jayna returned with hot water in a teapot to match the cup she’d left for him, and a little plate with the chocolate tart on a silver tray. She placed the tart and tiny (compared to Sephiroth’s hands) silverware before him and poured the tea. When the cup was full, she left it on a little trivet in the middle of the table. She left to stow the tray and returned a moment later with a bowl of sugar cubes, a small creamer jug and a pot of wooden spoons dipped in honey. It was all rather elaborate, just for tea and snacks, but Sephiroth figured that it was probably the café’s gimmick. He made a mental note to grab a business card for Highwind before he left. Cid could probably keep the place open single-handedly for all they cared for tea service.

“Thank you… this is all…” Sephiroth looked at his surroundings and sought a proper word. “Very charming. I know a man who would enjoy it here.”

Jayna smiled and took a seat at the empty chair across from him. “I’m sure you do. Now, don’t you worry about the façade. I’ve been meaning to get it repaired anyway. You probably didn’t hurt anything that wasn’t already broken.”

Sephiroth nodded, at a loss for what to say. Though he had mostly collected himself, he still felt queasy and light-headed, and measured all his movements carefully as he picked out a honey spoon, poured a little cream into his cup and stirred it all together, before he even took a sip of his tea. Jayna seemed to study him and his motions – at the very least, he felt like she judged every gesture, as if she waited for him to break something else.

“I’m still sorry for what I did. I’m not…” he paused and took a sip of his tea to avoid eye contact. “Mmm… it’s good.”

“You like sweet things, hmm? I have plenty, if you need to satisfy a craving,” replied Jayna. “And I said, don’t worry about it. I have insurance.”

“I see.” Sephiroth took another sip of his drink before he had a go at the chocolate tart. He lightly broke off a piece with the undersized fork he was provided with and carefully bit it off. The warm chocolate in the singular tart oozed onto his tongue and had a hint of cinnamon laced through it. He moaned softly at the rich flavor and immediately went in for another bite.

The look of surprise on his face must have been hilarious, because Jayna burst into a fit of giggles at his expression. “You don’t get enough sweets, do you?” she asked. Sephiroth shook his head. “It’s flattering, at least. You look like you could cry, but in a much happier way than you did outside.”

Sephiroth looked away from her and tried to discreetly wipe at his eyes. “I haven’t been having a good week,” he said. “My… roommate has been avoiding me.”

“Did you get into a fight?” she asked. It was innocent enough, but the reality was too complex to explain.

“Not exactly… I just… he and I have a sordid past. He has his own problems, as I have mine.”

“And you’re still living together?”

“He’s been staying elsewhere lately. I think I’ve… made a mess of our… friendship.” Sephiroth frowned and took another bite of tart and washed it down with sweet, warm tea and tried to focus on the pleasant, physical feeling instead of whatever his head wanted him to languish over.

“You wanted something different, and he wasn’t keen, huh? I’ve been there, sweetie,” replied Jayna, her chin propped on her hand. “Excuse me a moment.” She got up to attend to the elderly couple and accept their payment, and then handled another customer who came in to load up a box with baked goods from the cabinet. When she returned, Sephiroth had finished his tartlet and sat back with his cup of tea as the heat from the cup seeped into his fingers.

“Feeling a little better?” she asked. “Would you like another treat, or something to go?” Jayna rested her weight on her hands on the back of the chair she had been sitting in. “You can also stick around if you want, but I’ll have to insist on another pot of tea.”

Sephiroth looked at his cup and then over to the pastry display. His mind had been on Cloud, where he might be, what he might still think of whatever their arrangement was now. He rolled his lips together and glanced up at Jayna. “Can I get something flaky and fruit filled? My roommate likes sticky-sweet things,” he said.

She smiled down at him and nodded. “I think I have just the thing. Hopefully, a little peace offering will open the door for you two.”

 

Once he had paid for his snacks and offered, again (and was subsequently refused, again) to pay for the damage done to her shop, Jayna sent Sephiroth on his way with a little pastry box and the remainder of his tea in a travel cup. Sephiroth was given a copy of the menu for Cid, and he promised to send more people her way; it would be easy to get Highwind’s interest and once Cloud tasted the pastries, Sephiroth was certain he’d be joining Cid. Sephiroth left the shop with a small, pink box tied with white string and his newly-purchased travel cup with less anxiety than he’d entered. He would never understand psychology, but the comfort of sweets and the pleasant café owner had helped to stem what could have been a terrible breakdown. He wasn’t 100% back to “normal,” but at least he felt like he could function for just a little longer.

On his trip back to the apartment, Sephiroth took a better look at many of the shops he had passed in his numbed state when he’d left 7th Heaven that afternoon. Many were focused on thrift, pawn or trading – a staple source of income for Edge since even before Midgar had fallen, but the reasoning was different almost a decade later. Jobs were still difficult to come by at any level, and the WRO’s involvement with the economy was focused on hiring based on specific skills and a strict applications process to prevent any of the old ShinRa nepotism/favoritism from influencing the WRO’s taskforce. That forced many to provide for themselves based on salvage or trade, like the smaller towns in the country did. Still, it made for a colorful array of small businesses all over the shopping district. A good few were still focused on weapons, as monsters in the city and out were a larger issue that anyone faced directly.

It was in passing one of these weapon shops that Sephiroth diverted his attention, and his path, inside. The shop was just another that consisted largely of scavenged weaponry, but unlike the many that had put a focus toward scatter guns and other crude defense devices, this particular one sold _swords._ Not just any “stick with a blade” types, either. There were Buster style swords, Rapiers, Katana style, Longsword… he had yet to see anyone pull off the type of fusion sword that Cloud wielded in First Tsurugi, but there were attempts with paired blades that seemed to fit together.

As Sephiroth browsed the racks and displays in a fit of nostalgic mourning for his shattered Masamune, a movement near the back of the shop caught his attention. A man emerged from the back curtain, one who seemed like he’d survived an apocalypse or two. His dark hair was wild and slightly gray, some kept in a ponytail while anything shorter fell loose around his head. He had lost an eye at some point, the right one scarred over and barely covered by a pair of sunglasses. Over the top of these, the man cast a glare right at Sephiroth, the left eye a heated brown color.

“If you’re ‘just browsing,’ go back to wherever you got your biscuits. My shop’s not to entertain,” the owner growled to him. Sephiroth endured his glare a moment longer, but as he opened his mouth to speak, the man continued. “If you’re interested in blades of a certain size, you’ll have to go to Wutai.”

Sephiroth’s mouth hung open in surprise; he licked his lips and approached the counter where the man stood. “What about the Katana class weapons you carry here? Surely, you have something… larger?”

The owner’s one eye met Sephiroth’s, though he seemed unfettered in the slightest. “What I’ve got here are donations from the dead, if they weren’t sold to me directly. Certain _types_ can only be forged in Wutai. You want something like an Odachi? You get it in Wutai.”

Sephiroth frowned and set his box on the counter. The man glanced down at the offending pink box sitting beside a display of throwing knives, scowled, then glared at Sephiroth again. “What do you have here, then? The largest Katana-class weapon you have?”

“That depends. Who’s it for?”

“For myself.”

“Do you even know how to use a sword?” asked the owner. Though Sephiroth had no doubts that he was recognized, it still felt like a slap to the face. However, instead of the insecure bleed of anxiety and remorse that had gripped him earlier, Sephiroth felt the heat of anger rise in his veins.

“I do, in fact. I have been trained in every type that you sell here. I merely prefer Katana class,” replied Sephiroth. He put down his tea on the counter and leaned his weight on the glass, right above where a sign that read “Do Not Lean on Glass” had been taped down.

The owner leaned in as well, his height nowhere near Sephiroth’s, but he was no more intimidated than Cloud would be in that situation. “I’m sure you have been. I see a lot of guys who knew what they were doing. You know what happens to them?”

“No.”

“Neither do I. But the swords always come back to me. If I sell you something nice, how long will it be before I get it back?” the man asked, no, _challenged_ Sephiroth to answer. Sephiroth kept his weight on the display counter, as did the owner and the stare off was well underway until the front door opened and shut with a bang. A soft, lilting voice followed, apparently to call out to the owner.

“Venno, we’ve returned… oh, doing business again, I see?” said the new speaker.

Sephiroth leaned back at the same time as the shop keeper did and turned in the direction of the third person – and the little girl they carried. Sephiroth’s eyebrows lifted as a person, whom he might have assumed as possibly male by the height and sharpness of their jawline, came into view. However, in contrast to the battle-damaged shopkeeper who still glowered at him with his one good eye, this new person was bright, colorful, and downright _pleasant_ compared to the owner. They had long, obscenely _blue_ hair and fair skin, long, sharp nails painted to match their hair and on their hip, carried a little girl with dark hair who reached for the shop owner from the arms of her other parent. Both child and parent wore clothing in bright colors, where Sephiroth suspected the store owner was a man more like him – as he had dark color palette, though the owner seemed to favor reds and browns compared to his companion’s option for more blues and greens.

“Am I interrupting you gentlemen?” asked the newcomer, their voice still soft and gentle, but there was a sharpness to their deeply blue, almost violet, gaze as they examined Sephiroth and the owner in turn. “Venno?”

The owner, “Venno,” if that was his name, let out a held breath and took the reaching toddler from his partner. She cooed and leaned into his chest, small arms around his neck. “Of course not, Mela. This… _gentleman_ and I were just negotiating,” he replied.

“Negotiating? You implied I was going to die!” Sephiroth hissed. He kept his voice low for the sake of the little girl, but inside, he still fumed. The introduction of Mela and their child had no bearing on how _he_ felt, regardless of how the pair might have affected Venno. “And that my killer would pawn off my sword.”

Venno patted the little girl’s back as she curled against him and babbled in toddler-speak, but he still somehow came across even _more_ boorish and obstinate. “Because you’re a SOLDIER, and if I’m right, _the_ SOLDIER. Military types like you take up swordplay as a skill, not an art. That’s why so many of you are dead or useless.”

Sephiroth’s eyes widened and his eyebrows pulled down with the rest of his face into a scowl. Rarely had someone ever made him so outright furious, but before he could give the man a piece of his mind, Mela stepped in between Sephiroth and the counter; behind it, Venno appeared to seethe over his partner’s shoulder, as if Sephiroth somehow influenced Mela to be there.

“What my husband is so rudely trying to explain is that he does not sell to hobbyists. He is rather particular about whom he does business with, and why. However…” Mela peered over their shoulder at Venno, who turned away from his partner to give attention to the child. “ _We_ do sell to those willing to buy anyway. Right, _Venno?_ ”

Venno’s response was a muffled grumble into his daughter’s arm. Mela smiled, but there was something about them, something in that smile that unsettled Sephiroth. Their diplomatic approach was commendable, but it seemed awfully familiar. Almost political. “Yes, as I was saying,” Mela continued, long, elegant hands clasped before them, “What were you looking for?”

Sephiroth cleared his throat. Where Venno made him angry, Mela made him feel on edge. The way they looked, too pleasant and a little too serene, was suspect. But, he wanted a weapon. Needed something bladed in his hand again. Just to make himself feel slightly more complete, even if he never used it. At this point, he considered owning one to display, if only for the personal satisfaction of knowing Venno would be pissed over the very idea. “I was trying to explain to your… husband…” Sephiroth trailed a moment as he glanced at the owner who then disappeared back behind the curtain. “That I would like a Katana class weapon. The longest you have.”

Mela’s smile stretched to reveal their teeth, bright, white and sharp, and they nodded. “Like an Odachi? We do not carry such a… _long_ sword on the premises, but we do carry a few… let’s just say, competitively sized blades. Something with girth, perhaps?”

Sephiroth curled his lips back and felt like he’d been propositioned. “I prefer something with length to it,” he said, as Mela swept themselves behind the counter to tend to the business end their husband had nearly blocked.

“You have someone you wish to keep far from you, then?” Mela perused the displays as if shopping for themselves, a long finger placed on their chin in thought. _Fishing for clues…_ Sephiroth thought as he followed Mela’s path around the store. “I suppose we all have someone we need to keep at arm’s length. Though I prefer to use materia, when I can.” Mela reached up, over their head to pull down a blade Sephiroth had missed until that point – it was wrapped in what seemed to be Zolom skin. “It’s much more intimate, using one’s own energy as a weapon,” Mela said as they laid the sword on the counter and delicately untied the cord that kept the skin wrapped tight. They removed the katana from its shiny, enameled sheath and Sephiroth felt his heart jump in his chest.

The blade polished bright, to a nearly mirror finish, with fine engraving of Wutai symbols near the elaborate gold hilt. The handle had black leather wrapped over dark horn scales. The cutting side, Sephiroth could see, was hand-ground to a fine, precise edge and he expected it to be razor-smooth when it struck. The sword itself was a little broader than Masamune, suited more to close combat than his old weapon could allow.

“May I?” asked Sephiroth. His hands hovered eagerly over the sword, and he would berate himself later for acting so awestruck, but the weapon was clearly well made, not just a display piece, but meant to be used, though it appeared to never have left the shop, let alone cut anything. When Mela handed it over to him, a slight tingle ran through Sephiroth’s fingers. It felt heavy, but balanced, and when he stepped back with it, the tang didn’t rattle nor did the wrapping slip from its place. He gave it a test swipe through the air, and for a moment, felt like his old self again.

Mela watched from the counter with a pleased smile on their face. “Shall I have it delivered, or would you like to carry it home?”

Sephiroth looked over from where he had taken up his fighting stance and considered. Cloud would probably have a heart attack if he came home with a sword… _To Hell with it… he still has First Tsurugi... and more…_ “I will need a side harness… and do you know the sword’s name?”

Mela chuckled as they picked out a harness suited for the blade. “I believe it is called… Ame no Murakumo. It’s Wutain for-“

Sephiroth gasped in interruption. “Heaven’s Cloud.” The sword was too lovely, too perfect, but the name… _It’s just a coincidence. Wutain culture is full of symbolism…_ he reminded himself. Just because the sword in particular happened to have the word for “Cloud” in its name wouldn’t stop him from buying it.

“You speak Wutain? Lovely.” Mela turned back and placed the appropriate harness on the counter as Sephiroth re-sheathed the weapon and brought it over to where he’d left the treats for Cloud and his travel cup of probably-cold tea. “I think it will work out for you,” Mela continued. “Don’t let that gruff old goat bother you. As I said, he’s very particular.”

“How do you deal with him?” asked Sephiroth. Mela chuckled and Sephiroth looked away and cleared his throat. “My apologies. It’s very rare that someone can get under my skin that easily.”

“That’s what my Venno does to everyone. He just gets under mine in a different way. Only I and my daughter see what he’s really like, and that’s the way we all prefer it. His directness and refusal to mince words was what drew me to him,” explained Mela as they added up Sephiroth’s total.

Sephiroth did his best to not wince; it wasn’t his place to know and he hadn’t really meant to ask a personal question like that. “I see. I suppose, then, whatever works for you…”

Mela carefully snipped off the paper tag that had been tied to Ame no Murakumo and laughed quietly. “’Work’ is certainly the term for it. You just have to know how to see through the bluster and performance to the person underneath. Once that much is revealed to you, get past the façade and to what lies within… that is where love can bloom. Or you realize how much of a stubborn ass you’ve married and you’re still hooked for life, like me,” they concluded with a smile.

Sephiroth felt his face heat up and he nodded, at a loss for words. Despite the personal information, what Mela had to say rang true in a way he had never really considered, mostly because love had been a largely foreign and mercilessly abstract concept to him for much of his life before he had friends. “Well, thank you, for selling me the sword…” he said once he handed over a large portion of his pay for it.

“Think nothing of it,” said Mela with a wave of their hand. “My Venno might have sold you something, eventually. After you punched him in the nose for his behavior.” Mela smiled again, though it felt more genuine and less _slimy_ than before. “Do come again.”

Sephiroth bowed his head in thanks and took his purchases outside. He affixed the harness to his belt and felt a little more whole with a katana at his hip. He hadn’t used something so small and light since he was a child, but he considered that three months without a weapon could have left him rusty.

_I wonder if Cloud would be up for a spar…_ he thought to himself as he made his way back to their apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and thank you all for reading! I just wanted to say that there are a few characters appearing in this chapter, one is an OC (Jayna) and the two at the end "Mela" and "Venno" are, well... convoluted, lol. They're taken from an AU-RP Crossover with a friend of mine, and they are characters from the Final Fantasy Series, but they're presented here... pretty far from their original states. Kind of AU/OC-as-NPC versions, if you will. I needed to fill in some gaps and went with a few "extras" I had on hand (in my brainpan) who already had the kinds of personalities I required. Including Mela and Venno is kind of a "thanks" to my friend, as he's been the guinea pig for most of the chapters before I post them. 
> 
> Also, I do not claim to be an expert on C-PTSD or mental illnesses. Sephiroth's panic attack was not "magically cured" when he sat down at Jayna's, he was just given a quiet place to be while he calmed down. But, if I offended anyone with my portrayal, you have my sincerest apologies and please know that I mean no disrespect to those who suffer from any illness.


	7. Form and Function

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth and Cloud talk about their feelings in a healthy way. Or not.

Cloud stretched out on the apartment couch and tried to watch TV. Tried. He really did try, but his focus was elsewhere. While the day before had started roughly and ended fantastically in a one night stand, the next day began just… differently. He flopped and rolled over onto his side and tried to focus on the news. Weather updates, an extension on the excavations in Bone Village, supposed sightings of flying creatures over Old Midgar (when wasn’t there a strange sighting over the ruins, anyway?) he was distracted.

Sephiroth hadn’t been home when he came back, and that outright bothered him.

 _“So, how’d he come back?”_ Kay, no _Kunsel_ had asked. Cloud pushed onto his back and pulled out his phone. Kunsel “Kay” Runi had been added to his contact list, along with a picture of the two of them set as his wallpaper. He had learned a few things about his overnight bed buddy; after the mass desertion at SOLDIER following the Nibelheim incident, a lot of the men who left the SOLDIER program or the military in general became mercenaries, rebels, or in Kunsel’s case, something else entirely. Kunsel had become a writer, mostly for the Edge City News as an investigative reporter.

_“I don’t know how he came back… if it had to do with Jenova or…”_

_“Or what?”_

_“I don’t know… I don’t want to talk about him, anyway… I’d rather make out again before I head home.”_

_“I think I can do that…”_

Cloud looked at his phone’s wallpaper, the image one Kunsel had taken when he sneaked a kiss on Cloud’s cheek before he took off, and then sent it to him via text. It was sweet, and Cloud could admit he looked adorable: his eyes were wide with genuine surprise and his face flushed red.

Then, he’d come home and listened to his near-forgotten voice mails. The ones from Tifa were the usual: concern for his mental health, and a lecture about keeping his friends in the loop. The ones from Reeve were just about the WRO assisting Cid and Vincent after Cid was injured, and that they would be in Edge in just over a day or two. The ones from Sephiroth, however… the first had been a notification of a delivery order, the one that he had told Cid and Vincent about, another seemed to be an invitation or bribery to come home. Sephiroth had made burgers, even promised that they had been made with bacon and cheese – all the heart-stopping trimmings that usually made Cloud’s mouth water. Just the _mindfulness_ of Sephiroth going to the trouble to learn what he liked most as a food and the to prepare it… even the leftovers that had waited for him in the fridge almost two days later tasted good when he got in that afternoon. The last two… still rang in his head.

 _“Cloud, I am sorry I ever told you about the dreams I had… I’m not very good when it comes to the feelings of others. I couldn’t tell when Genesis was sick and dying, or when Angeal was going to run away with him. I should have known that it would have upset you, but I just thought of myself. I’m sorry.”_ Cloud had played that one twice more, just because he never thought he’d hear Sephiroth apologize for anything like that. It was not even to revel in the fact that Sephiroth say he was sorry, but he had sounded better than the message that had followed.

The last recording nearly broke Cloud’s heart. Unlike the others, which had been left in the decent hours of the day, the last was made at almost three in the morning, which told Cloud that Sephiroth could not sleep. As Sephiroth was the kind of person who could either go days without sleep or could drift off whenever comfortable, just the timestamp on the message alone gave Cloud a hint as to how Sephiroth had felt when he left the following:

 _“I’m sorry, Cloud… It’s too quiet here now. Too quiet and too loud. I can hear movement in the hallway and I thought you came home, but…”_ The message had gone quiet for a moment where Cloud thought that was it, until he heard a noise that sounded almost like a wounded animal before he realized what it was: Sephiroth’s voice, breaking slightly. _“I hate being alone. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not like this. I’m …Sephiroth…come home soon…”_ Just to hear him say his own name, like he had to remember what kind of cold, frigid persona he tried to exude and recover it, and then beg him to return made Cloud feel guilty for not calling back.

The longer Sephiroth stayed away from the apartment, the more he worried. He had gone to 7th Heaven to see if Mukki had his bike delivered – he had – and to pick up what he had left at Tifa’s house. For some reason, he just expected Sephiroth to be there waiting for him. When Tifa told him he had just missed Sephiroth, it had not occurred to him that Sephiroth wouldn’t be in the apartment, either. He should have called, but what would he have said? _“Sorry, I ignored you for five days and then went off with a virtual stranger for a one-night stand while I’m aware that you chose to come back because of me?”_ Cloud doubted it would have been well received. They needed to speak, but face to face.

Therefore, when the key scraped in the lock and the knob turned with a little effort, Cloud nearly leaped over the back of the couch to greet Sephiroth as he returned. He settled on his knees again and did his best to appear nonchalant.

“Where have you been?” asked Cloud as he sat up on his knees and tried to appear for all the world like he hadn’t been sitting there for hours and worrying the whole time. “You… do some shopping?” he continued with a gesture to the little pink box Sephiroth had in his hand. “A lot of shopping,” he added, as he couldn’t help but notice the glossy black lacquer on the sheath of a katana that just hung at Sephiroth’s right hip.

“I did.” Sephiroth approached the couch and handed Cloud the pink box. “I brought treats.”

Cloud stared at the box, which read “Jayna’s Sweet Shoppe” in embossed silver across the top of it. He raised an eyebrow as he took the box from Sephiroth and untied the string that held it shut. Inside, he found four small, lovely strawberry tarts with a sugared strawberry in the center of each. When he looked up again, Sephiroth had walked away toward his room and the door shut just as Cloud figured out that he had gone.

As he got up from the couch to put the box into the fridge for later, more guilt swept through Cloud. Were the tarts really a just a treat, or an offering of peace? Did Sephiroth just happen across them or did he intentionally buy them to passive-aggressively call Cloud a “tart?”

 _I’m literally freaking out because of pastry now. This is my life,_ Cloud said to himself as he steeled himself to go to Sephiroth’s room and confront him. They really did need to talk, and not just about their own behavior. He had kept news of Genesis away from Sephiroth for now, but if the man was going to come after Cloud and/or Sephiroth, they needed a game plan.

In front of Sephiroth’s door, he had just started to knock when Sephiroth opened the door again, almost completely naked, except for briefs and a change of clothes in his hand. “Can I help you?” he asked, and though his face had drawn into a neutral mask, the lack of direct eye contact and slight shade beneath Sephiroth’s eyes gave away how tired he must have been. “I was going to take a shower.”

“You bought a sword,” Cloud said, and immediately smacked himself in the face. “That’s not what I meant to say. What’s with the pastries?”

Sephiroth took a deep breath and put one hand on Cloud’s shoulder to push him aside as he passed. “I thought you’d like them,” he said quietly.

“You’re not using them to… say something?”

Sephiroth paused and turned around, a look of confusion on his face. “I… no? I just…” he stopped there and sighed. “I had a breakdown, by that woman’s shop. She was kind enough to not press charges when I broke a piece of her storefront-“

“You broke her store?!”

“Store _front,_ but yes. I had a panic attack. I still don’t feel very good.”

Cloud frowned and mentally tossed aside his accusations and doubts. He took a step forward and hugged Sephiroth; he could feel the bigger man tense up before he returned the embrace with one arm and a pat on the shoulder. “I’m sorry I left.”

“I’m sorry I put you in a position where you needed to get away from me,” replied Sephiroth. He felt Sephiroth’s lips move against his hair and realized Sephiroth had dropped his head down. “I regret-“

“No, it’s fine. I’m glad you did.” Cloud looked up and gave a weak smile to him. “It kind of explains why you’re here.” He held onto Sephiroth until he was pushed back by his shoulders and Sephiroth looked away from him. “What’d I say?”

“I still need a shower and… I don’t feel well.”

“Do you want a quiet ni-“

“No.” Sephiroth shook his head. “I don’t think I could really handle a …’quiet night’ right now. It’s too… intimate.” Cloud could see the muscles work in Sephiroth’s throat as he swallowed. “And I can’t be… I’d rather fight. I don’t want to talk.”

Cloud tilted his head and frowned again. “You want to fight? Is that why you bought the sword?”

“It… just let me take my shower, Cloud. I feel strange enough just talking about anything while standing around in my underwear.”

Cloud snorted at the non-sequitur from Sephiroth and smiled. He hoped things would be okay when Sephiroth smiled as well, even if it was a little tight lipped. “Go, scrub up. You do still smell a little like beer and hard labor. Did you guys at least do well last night?”

“Of course. That’s why she sent me home after the tables were replaced. Or because she wanted to be alone with Elena.”

Cloud’s eyes widened and he clapped his hands together. “Ha! I knew it! I mean, I didn’t think she’d seal the deal in one night, but Tifa’s a little extra… _friendly_ if there’s a good take at the bar.” He smiled as he thought of Tifa finding someone too. It had been a worry of his for some time – he thought it was why she took exception to his and Sephiroth’s supposed future together.

“You should get dressed, too. I would like to spar with you.”

Cloud turned toward Sephiroth and raised a brow. “I thought you weren’t feeling well.”

“Physically, I am fine. I need the opportunity to clear my head. After all, we never even finished our fight in Ajit. It seems a waste to leave it unresolved,” said Sephiroth. He had his back to Cloud, so Cloud could only guess at what he needed cleared up. He was hard enough to read, sometimes, when Sephiroth kept his face perfectly blank.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt… if that’s all we do…” Cloud replied.

Before he went into the bathroom, Sephiroth turned toward Cloud once more. “Bring First Tsurugi’s full complement of blades. I expect nothing less than your very best.”

Cloud smirked and put his hands on his hips. “Then I hope you can work with that dinky little pig sticker you bought. A blade that small… dunno if I’ll even feel it.”

Sephiroth turned toward Cloud fully, and the expression on his face was dark, as if Cloud had crossed a line by mocking his blade; maybe it was a little childish, to throw that kind of innuendo around, but he had heard plenty of “compensation” jokes since he took up the Buster Blade. Surely, Sephiroth…

“I’ll make you feel it. I know what I’m doing,” replied Sephiroth, a smirk on his face. “Unlike some, I don’t flail around wildly and need all sort of… _attachments_ to make mine effective.” On that note, while Cloud recovered from his counter-snark, Sephiroth retreated into the bathroom for a quick shower.

Left alone while Sephiroth cleaned himself up, Cloud felt a little tension release. They were speaking. They were _bantering_ again, even if it was immature dick jokes. He had been afraid of Sephiroth shutting himself away, had recalled a dark silhouette that paced with a book in his hands and despair in his words.

Cloud had been so afraid that all they had worked for the last few months, the little bit of peace, the cautious understanding… hadn’t been thrown out just because Cloud had been afraid of Sephiroth’s dream.

 

A half hours’ worth of time passed and saw Sephiroth and Cloud headed into the ruins of Old Midgar. Cloud leaned over his bike with Sephiroth up against his back. Since they planned “to finish” their fight in Ajit, Sephiroth had chosen to don his old black coat and tall boots, and he had even gone so far as to leave his shirt behind.

Cloud was hesitant to admit that when he saw Sephiroth come out of their bathroom in all his black-leather glory, an excited shiver ran through him. Sephiroth did not seem to notice and Cloud was certainly not going to tell him; he was just going to let their spar do the talking, as that seemed to be what Sephiroth wanted as well.

In what had been the old downtown Slum district, a large area of asphalt, concrete and spires of broken metal surrounded them in an almost circular arena. It felt both new, familiar, to face down Sephiroth in the ruins again, but he was also much more lucid, and in control now – Cloud hoped so, at least.

Cloud held First Tsurugi in front of him and Sephiroth lifted the sword he said was called “Murasame” into the position he was most famous for; back straight, his hair flowing in the breeze… they were both still as they watched each other. Watched… and waited.

In a flash, Sephiroth charged forward to make the first strike; he pushed off with enough force to leave an impact ripple in the asphalt and loose stones and dust flew up behind him. Cloud met him steel for steel and felt Sephiroth’s weight bear down on him, more than he had in previous fights. The shorter length of Murasame meant that Sephiroth had to put pressure forward, with more force, and rely less on trying to slice Cloud in half, and for that, Cloud had to brace his own weight on his back foot to push himself free from the opening move.

Cloud felt the ache in his arms already, but he had no time to dwell on it as Sephiroth had leaped and dropped onto him again and he had to block the impact. The crash of metal-to-metal was familiar, but backwards.

Sephiroth loomed over him and pushed Murasame against First Tsurugi hard enough that Cloud fell to one knee.

Again, Cloud shoved Sephiroth back, but before he could drop another crushing blow, Cloud used his low position to roll back and out of the way. He split First Tsurugi into two blades and surged forward himself. He guarded himself with the double blades until he was close enough to strike.

Sephiroth caught both blades like scissors on Murasame, and then shoved Cloud off again.

“This is going well,” Sephiroth said with a smirk.

“I’d like to think so,” Cloud replied. He held his stance for a moment, both blades tight in his hands but his arms loose and ready to move.

“Maybe we should change the pace.”

“How so?”

Sephiroth replied with a turn of his back and a straight aerial leap up to the crumbling structures that hung over them. He perched on a twisted I-beam that stuck out like a broken bone from what had once been an office building. He raised his hand over his head and Cloud was struck with a familiar sense of foreboding; Sephiroth had recreated the conditions to the last fight they had gone all the way through, when Sephiroth’s spirit had used Kadaj, the same way Jenova used Sephiroth – as a vessel of vengeance.

“I thought you were above psychological tricks, Sephiroth.”

“I take what advantages I can get,” Sephiroth replied as he swooped down to strike again. Cloud met him in the middle and a shower of sparks exploded between them, not just the once, but multiple times as they began to exchange blows.

Cloud tasted blood in his mouth after he was stricken in the face with Sephiroth’s fist supported by the handle of Murasame.

In return, Cloud left an ugly gash across the top of Sephiroth’s right thigh.

Sephiroth paid him back with a slice across Cloud’s stomach.

Cloud gave a roar of anger and slapped Sephiroth across the face with the flat side of his shorter sword. Sephiroth staggered backwards and tried to shake off the impact. Cloud could see him breathe heavily; his own blood rushed in his ears.

“The fuck is wrong with you?! I thought this was a spar! We’ve drawn…” Cloud spat red into the dirt, to prove his point. “Blood!”

Sephiroth snarled and swung Murasame in a high arc as if he was going to chop Cloud in half. “You know what’s wrong!” he growled. Cloud jumped back to dodge the attack and clapped the two blades back into one.

“Sephiroth, stop! I get it, you’re angry at me!” Cloud dodged under what would have been a beheading blow and kicked at Sephiroth’s knees.

“It’s not anger,” hissed Sephiroth as he got back up. Cloud had taken the chance to back up, but he did not want to turn and run. He kept his eyes on Sephiroth. “I’m alone!”

“What?” Cloud slapped First Tsurugi into Sephiroth’s side and heard bone break underneath it. “You have us! You have me!”

“I have nothing!” Sephiroth fell to one knee and held himself up with his sword stabbed into the dirt. “You don’t _want_ me, are afraid of a future with me… I am your burden.”

Cloud’s face softened and he reached forward to help Sephiroth up; Murasame sang through the air as the blade few millimeters away from Cloud’s chest. “Stay away from me!”

“Sephiroth, I can’t help you if-“

“No, you _can’t_. You refuse to…” Sephiroth got to his feet and stumbled back. “It’s always the same… I am too strange, too violent, too… _damaged…_ why would you want to love me?”

Cloud felt his body grow cold with realization. He stepped forward again and held out his hand. “Sephiroth… why couldn’t you tell me?”

Sephiroth closed his eyes and took another step away. “As much as I might want a happy future…” His face was wet with tears, but Sephiroth shook his head, and his eyes glowed brighter. “You’ve ruined me!” he shouted. Sephiroth drew Murasame up and attacked again in a blur of black and silver.

“How did I ruin you?!” Cloud demanded as he defended himself. The sounds of battle made it hard to hear, but Sephiroth’s reply was just under the noise:

“It’s always been _you,_ ” Sephiroth hissed, “The nervous trooper, the shy boy from Nibelheim. The _nobody_.” Sephiroth’s words stung worse than the assault, but Cloud wondered if he might have deserved them, in some way. “You were the unlikely hero, the underdog, the _fanboy_ … I was your idol and I failed you!”

“You killed people! You destroyed my hometown! You betrayed everything I thought of you!” Cloud shouted back, and this time, he took the offensive. “You killed Tifa’s father in front of her! You nearly killed Tifa and me! Because of you, Zack is dead!”

“You were nothing to me, then! You were a grunt, a peon, _insignificant_. Then a flame of righteous anger was lit inside you…” Sephiroth blocked a sideswipe that might have taken out a kidney and pushed Cloud off him.

“Poor choice of words, Seph.”

“I’m not a poet!”

“No shit!” Cloud grabbed Sephiroth’s wrist when he dove in for a stab. He used the forward momentum and bashed his head straight into Sephiroth’s nose. “You were everything to me, you know! I idolized you!”

Sephiroth stepped back and straightened his nose with a disgusting crunch of cartilage. “And called yourself pathetic for it!”

“In hindsight!” Cloud barked back. “As far as I knew, you were a hero! Everything I wanted to be! Powerful, brave… respected. You were my god!”

“And then I became one… a monstrous god.” Sephiroth bowed, smiled with blood in his teeth and spread his arms, despite the bruising all over his face. “I almost had you on your knees.”

“You manipulated me! You let me think I was a copy of _you!_ ” Cloud struck at the ground and sent an energy beam at Sephiroth, which sent him tumbling into the dirt.

Sephiroth rolled onto his side with a groan as he got up again. “I still remember the way you called to me, when I was imprisoned… sweet, sad, desperate to be recognized… the remnants of your fanboy days made you a whimpering mess before my dormant corpse.”

Cloud snorted. “God, you’re fucking morbid.”

“Death was never a fear for me. You killed me, set me free… but Jenova took my empty shell and the scraps of my memories…” Sephiroth lunged forward and ducked under where Cloud had moved to block his blade. Instead, he came up under Cloud’s arms and looped his own around Cloud’s torso.

The world went by in a whirl of color until he connected with a wall of concrete and steel, thrown there by Sephiroth. Cloud did not stay alone against the wall for long; Sephiroth appeared a moment after impact. First Tsurugi lay on the ground by Cloud’s feet, but he did not need it. Sephiroth had sheathed Murasame as he had approached – instead, he chose to pin Cloud to the wall in a cage of limbs and loomed over him, a silver and black shadow.

Cloud felt the heat radiate off Sephiroth like a furnace. The scent of blood and leather met his nose and he could feel Sephiroth’s knee between his legs. He was lifted off the ground just enough that his toes grazed the shattered asphalt underneath him, supported by Sephiroth’s thigh. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked up.

Sephiroth leaned over Cloud and stared into his eyes. Cloud glared back, his chin up and his mouth a thin-pressed line. His hands were on Sephiroth’s arms, ready to push him off if he had to. Sephiroth put his head against the concrete just over Cloud and spoke into his hair.

“After all this time, you’re still not afraid of me?” he murmured. “Given what I’ve done to you? Could do, even now?”

“No. I don’t think you’re that man anymore, Sephiroth.” Cloud felt Sephiroth’s arms tense under his hands. More importantly, so close to one another, he could feel the J-cells in his own body reaching out as Sephiroth silently called out to him. “You’re restraining yourself, for my sake…,” murmured Cloud.

Sephiroth lifted him further up, with his face buried into the nape of Cloud’s neck. Cloud shuddered involuntarily, but as he suspected, Sephiroth maintained his limited contact and stayed outside the collar. Sephiroth’s hands moved from where they trapped Cloud on the wall to pull them close together, with Cloud wrapped around Sephiroth’s torso like a blanket. He willingly embraced Sephiroth in return and could feel him tremble enough that it made Cloud’s teeth chatter.

“You’re not mine to take,” whispered Sephiroth. “You’ve given me so much already… far more than I deserve…” Sephiroth’s breaths were heavy and irregular and the way he shook made it feel like Cloud was literally holding him together. “I don’t want your heart if it’s given out of pity… it would only serve to make you hate me again.” Sephiroth dropped to his knees in the dirt and held onto Cloud for dear life.

Cloud gingerly picked Sephiroth’s head out of the crook between his neck and his shoulder pad and framed his face with both hands. “Sephiroth… what is it you want?”

“I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be seen as a god, or a monster…”

“Tell me, then.”

“I want to be loved.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth does tell a little lie about the sword's name. ;)


	8. Administrative Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some goings-on at the WRO Headquarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during "Morning After" and "Form and Function."

“So, would you say he’s a threat?”

“To the Planet? Absolutely.”

“That doesn’t instill a lot of confidence, Elena.”

“He’s still got all his strength, his agility and skills… I don’t think he has the will, anymore, sir.”

Rufus leaned across his desk in his tiny, WRO-assigned office and bridged his hands together. He studied the face of his former subordinate, then the way Elena stood on the other side of his desk in a manner he thought he was used to: back straight, shoulders back and her head held upright. But there was a look of contempt that bled into her usually composed face that he was not used to.

“By will, you mean…?” Rufus prompted there, to see if Elena would fill in the gap.

Elena scoffed and put her hands on her hips, a break in her usual demeanor that had Rufus wondering at what had changed. “I mean, he just doesn’t want to. For Gaea’s sake, he was mopping up vomit without complaint. Name one human being in the service industry who does that without at least gagging.”

Reno piped up from his position to Elena’s left. “I’m pretty sure that’s like, all janitors, ever,” he said. Rufus shot him a withering glare for interrupting, but it had lost its heat. Reno just chuckled and remained sprawled in one of the extra office chairs as he carved up an apple for no other reason but to be sloppy when he ate. Rude just rested his hands on the back of Reno’s chair, silent as ever.

Rufus took a grounding breath and looked back up at Elena. “Well, you have done as I asked, I suppose I cannot demand more proof if it’s already lacking.”

“Damn right,” she replied.

Another voice joined the conversation. Tseng, at Rufus’ left – always his left, peered over at his ex-partner. “Do you think he is stable, or if it is an act?”

“I really don’t think it’s an act,” Elena replied. “It wouldn’t follow with his type to go for a long play. This isn’t war, you guys, this is people. He doesn’t know _people_. But I’ll shave my head and glue it to my ass if he’s even in the vicinity of ‘stable’.”

Tseng added another question. “What makes you say that?”

Elena smirked and folded her arms over her chest. “You didn’t see how many women were flirting with him. At once. Most of them just gave him a peek at their cleavage and he totally didn’t notice, but there was this one chick…”

_Elena looked up from where she had stacked another round of glasses to dry when Sephiroth marched back to the front door of the bar. When the night had gotten into full swing, he had made sure to avoid violating fire code by turning away or even bodily removing those who tried to sneak in a side door._

_Sephiroth got to the door just as a young woman tried to slip through the front. He couldn’t lock it in case of an emergency, but the bar’s capacity made it necessary for him to help Tifa and Elena deal with the crowd._

_In response to his attempts to politely get the young woman to understand that she couldn’t enter, she leaned up against Sephiroth’s body, her cleavage on display to the point of making her top useless. Elena certainly couldn’t hear what the woman offered, but she could guess by how red Sephiroth’s face got, and quickly. After she tried to caress his outer thigh, Sephiroth, in a show of restraint that Elena found impressive, removed her hands from him and gently shoved her outside._

“And then she tried to flash him from the window,” said Elena. “I can see why he’d pass. They were nice, but not violate-your-personal-morals nice.”

“You’re biased because you hooked up with TifOW!” Rude’s hand settled back on the chair again before anyone realized he had smacked Reno across the back of the skull. Rufus rubbed at his mouth to hide his smirk before he returned his attention to Elena.

“How is Miss Lockhart, anyway? Did she receive my apology?”

“You mean the check you cut her for nearly blasting holes in her place? Or were you thinking of sending flowers for the time you almost gassed her on live TV?” asked Elena. “Because, yes, she still remembers.”

Rufus sat back in his desk chair. “She employs Sephiroth with little question, but _nearly_ execute someone and they hold a grudge forever. I should have gone with a firing squad.”

“You’re an asshole, sir.” Elena leaned on Rufus’ desk. “Maybe when you were the top shelf CEO of the world’s only militant corporation, I’d still hang onto whatever you’ve got going on that these guys see in you,” she said, as she gestured to Tseng, Reno and Rude, “But I can’t do it anymore. I told you I’d play spy for a little while and report my conclusions, and here I am. I don’t have the old ShinRa loyalty anymore.” She looked around her, to her former partners. Rufus could tell she wanted to ask them to leave, and maybe she had petitioned them, at some point, to quit… but they chose to stick with him.

At least, Tseng did. Reno and Rude stuck near, but they took on tasks for the WRO as freelancers. Rufus always suspected that whatever one did, the other would follow, so when Rude decided he needed more fieldwork, Reno was right there beside him.

Rufus wondered why they still felt such devotion to him – Elena was more understandable. “You were always the eager newbie, young and… oddly idealistic. That you’ve held your own convictions in light of what ShinRa propagandized in the past… is admirable. I accept your resignation and wish you well.”

“R-Really?” Elena dropped her arms in surprise. “I thought you’d give me a lecture on fealty or something.”

Rufus turned sideways in his chair and waved his hand. “No, I wouldn’t do that. Not anymore. As much as it may not seem, I do care about you lot.” Rufus steepled his fingers and leaned back with a creak of his desk chair. “I am not going to demand you stay in my employ when I can barely afford to pay you on my own, and when you’re clearly interested in pursuing your own life. Or lives,” he added with a gesture toward Reno and Rude. “You have all given me your unflappable servitude… I can only repay your dedication with the kindness of personal freedom.” Rufus closed his eyes and leaned forward to discover that Elena had vaulted over his desk to give him a hug.

“Thank you, sir,” she murmured. “I promise, though, if I catch a whiff of trouble, to let you know. I still want you to be safe.”

Rufus tensed and reached up to pat at Elena’s shoulders with light taps. Her affectionate expressions always caught him off guard, even when he thought he had gotten used to them. “Yes, of course… you’re welcome, Elena. You don’t have to call me ‘sir’ anymore.”

Elena stood back and grinned. Her eyes were a little watery; Rufus hoped she would not cry in front of him. He had worked on his empathy but crying people made him feel so uncomfortable. Especially his own employees, even the former ones.

“I know I don’t have to, but I’d feel really weird calling you by name, sir. And it’s like a reflex.”

Rufus gave her a flat smile and waved his hand, trying to dismiss her affectionate gesture. He knew none of them would really believe his act, but he still tried to play it cool. “Very well. You should be on your way before your new girlfriend misses you too much. I have a desk to rearrange now.”

Elena blushed and twirled a little hair around her pinkie finger. “I could stay and help, sir…”

Rufus shook his head and avoided looking at her. “No, it’s perfectly fine. I’m a big boy, I can clean up after myself. Or I still have Tseng.”

Rude tapped Reno’s shoulder and held out his phone so Reno could see. “Oi, boss-man, we gotta roll too. Apparently Valenwind are on their way in an’ they’ve got goodies for Tuesti,” said Reno as he got up from his chair. “I think I’m gonna go snoopin’. I’ll let you know if any old ShinRa materials you might be interested in turn up.”

Elena watched Reno and Rude go before she turned back to Rufus. “You think those two are going to hook up?”

Rufus snorted inelegantly and shook his head. “They’re going to grow old together, somehow.”

Elena giggled and loosed her hair from around her finger. “Either way, I saw it coming.” She hesitated, then leaned down and threw her arms around Rufus again. “I’m shit at goodbyes, sir.”

“As am I, Elena,” replied Rufus. A heavy sigh escaped him as he patted her arm again and pried himself free of her second surprise embrace. “If you miss me too much, I’ll probably be in the market for a secretary, provided I can get a promotion. I’m not used to _working_ so much.”

“You _have_ a secretary!” said Elena as she withdrew her arms again. “But I’ll visit sometime. Maybe even bring you coffee.” Elena leaned in and snuck a kiss onto Rufus’ cheek before she stood again and backed out of reach. “Please, take care of yourself… Rufus.”

“Go, before I experience something like an emotion,” said Rufus, even as his face turned pink from the affection. “And… good luck.”

“Thank you.”

When Elena was gone, Tseng made sure the door closed tight as she left, making it just Rufus and Tseng in the room now. In his trip back to the chair that Reno had occupied, Rufus asked Tseng. “When did I get this way, Tseng? Caring for my subordinates, especially when they leave?”

Tseng settled back in his chair, long legs crossed over one another, ever the picture of poise and composure. “When you realized we always caught you when you fell? When we dug you out of the ruins of the ShinRa Tower? When—“

“All right, that’s enough.” Rufus fanned his face and looked away from Tseng, back to his computer. “I just wonder when you’ll join them for a life of your own,” he said. He immediately regretted it; Elena’s emotional goodbye must have done more damage than he realized. Or he really was going soft.

“I think you assume too much of me, sir,” replied Tseng. He got up from his seat and moved behind Rufus’ chair, his long fingers slowly curled over Rufus’ shoulders. “I have been here the longest and served you for much of my adult life. Why would I leave now?”

Rufus raised his hand up and placed it over one of Tseng’s. “I know. It’s silly of me to worry. My most loyal, faithful…”

“…Bodyguard.”

“Yes. Bodyguard.” Rufus cleared his throat and scooted his chair forward. He leaned closer to his computer before a thought struck him. Tseng was halfway back to his seat when Rufus asked him:

“Tseng?”

“Yes, sir?”

“…Who is ‘Valenwind?”

 

Elsewhere, in the WRO Headquarters, Reeve met with his mechanical mediary, as Cait Sith escorted Vincent and Cid to his office. Shelke was there, on standby as Reeve’s computer expert and resident hacker. She gave Vincent a small wave from where she stood while Cait delivered the floppy disk that Vincent found.

Reeve picked up the disk from where Cait Sith deposited it on his desk and chuckled. “Wow, this _is_ an old format. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize it, Vincent.”

Vincent tucked his face further into his cowl, already embarrassed. “I know it’s outdated, Reeve. Cid identified it, not me.”

“Yes, but it was a common disk to use in offices back in the day… which was around thirty years ago,” said Reeve, amused by the nostalgia the diskette evoked. He turned to Shelke and handed her the disk. “This was part of Hojo’s files concerning…”

“Sephiroth’s conception,” prompted Vincent.

“Yes, that. So it’s likely encrypted. Do you think you’d be able to decode it, Shelke?” Reeve asked of the girl.

Shelke took the disk and held it up to the light. Her gaze was glassy as she studied it before she snapped to attention again. “I believe that I can. Lucrecia used this kind of diskette too, and if it involved Hojo, she might have known his encoding methods.” Onto Reeve’s desk she placed an old portable computer that looked like it weighed more than Reeve’s PC and booted it up.

“Before you got here, I went out and found this in a thrift store and set it up to run a basic operating system so I could use my personal program on it,” she explained.

Cid snorted and leaned forward in his seat. “I think I ain’t seen a computer like that since grade school,” he said. “How much did you pay for that antique?”

Shelke inserted the diskette and frowned. “It was expensed to the WRO spending account,” she said in lieu of an answer.

“That means ‘too much,’” Cid concluded with a chuckle. “Might want to check your payroll, Reeve. This kid might spend the house on ol’ tech.”

Shelke rolled her eyes behind the laptop’s screen, but did not engage. “It seems there isn’t really… an encryption,” she said as she loaded her reader program. “It looks just like a series of video files.”

“Videos?” Vincent asked. “Will they play?”

“I think so…,” said Shelke. She pressed a small button in the center of her laptop and the video file started to play. “It looks like a video log.” She turned the computer around so Cid and Vincent and Reeve could see. “This computer lacks a sound card, but that looks like Hojo.”

Surely enough, the video was pixelated and choppy, but when the movement slowed down, it was clearly a young Professor Hojo speaking into the camera. It appeared he was at a small desk of his own, with papers stacked on either side of him, as well as a microphone right in front of him. To his right was a scope with a Petrie dish on the platform, which he gestured to while he spoke. As they watched, another young man in a lab coat entered the scene and appeared to have startled Hojo. It caused him to knock down the Petrie dish and microscope onto the floor, and then both men scrambled to clean it up.

“This is certainly… interesting,” commented Vincent. “He looked rather... pleasant. Perhaps even lucid.”

As they watched, Hojo came back into view from under the desk. His hand was bleeding, which the camera caught in shades of dull red just before Hojo reached to stop the video’s recording. Vincent frowned as the file ended and started to loop over again before Shelke closed it.

“Do you think you could clean these up? Perhaps see if they have sound?” Vincent asked. “Whatever these files are might be important if he included them in his study of Jenova.

Shelke nodded and closed the laptop. “I can hook this up to my personal computer and transfer them to a better format, see if I can improve the video quality as well. I won’t promise much, however. They are what they are. I can’t just add pixels in without changing the content entirely.”

Vincent nodded his assent. “Very well. Do whatever you can with them. Thank you, Shelke.” He began to stand, as well as Cid. “We should check in with Cloud and Sephiroth.”

“You should encourage him to meet his mother,” replied Shelke. “I know Lucrecia wants to meet him.”

Cid glanced at Vincent, who seemed to bristle at the idea. “That is up to him. He seemed apprehensive when I first broached the subject. Perhaps when we have compiled the data on his conception… he might be more willing to meet her.”

 

Outside, Vincent climbed onto Cid’s 4x4 behind him. “You’ve been rather quiet, Chief,” he said as he slipped his arms around Cid’s waist. “You usually speak enough for the both of us.”

Cid leaned back into Vincent’s arms as he made himself comfortable on his machine. “Well, I know the subject of Hojo an’ Lucrecia is still a real sore spot for you. I didn’t wanna make an ass of myself, shootin’ my mouth off over your past.”

Vincent leaned close and murmured into Cid’s ear. “Is that why you make an ass of yourself at all other times?” he asked, a lilt to his tone that made Cid shudder but he still noticed the subtle teasing.

“Hey, it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it.” Cid grinned and turned his head enough to nudge his stubble-rough cheek against Vincent’s face. He warmed considerably when Vincent returned the nuzzling with a light one of his own before he retreated back into the safety of his tall collar.

They took off for 7th Heaven without further delay, Vincent leaning up against Cid as he drove.


	9. Inside Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth and Cloud, post spar-turned-fight.

There was always one thing Sephiroth hated about his emotions, why he always repressed them and when they did affect him, they hit him hard. His body, designed for endurance and strength, had a major design flaw: Once he allowed himself to feel, his emotions took over and were harder and harder to push back into their neat little boxes. Jenova had managed to contain most of them but left his anger to run wild, and he just followed it blindly, with almost manic glee.

Currently, as he held onto Cloud and trembled, he almost wished he could feel anything else but the crushing weight of his own depression – or nothing at all. He was aware enough that he could feel Cloud’s fingers running over his scalp. Bare fingers, with Cloud’s gloves abandoned elsewhere, combed through his long hair and kneaded at the back of his neck. He could feel broken asphalt and gravel digging at his knees where he knelt, and the radiant warmth from Cloud that blocked out the cold breeze that danced past them.

At some point, he murmured “I’m sorry” into Cloud’s shoulder. He could not see Cloud’s face, buried as his own was into the nape of Cloud’s neck, but he heard and felt him murmur, “It’s okay” into his ear.

Between shuttering breaths, Sephiroth could smell blood. His own or Cloud’s – they were both so Mako-soaked that the acrid hint in their blood was too strong to tell whose injuries were worse. Sephiroth licked his lips and tasted dirt and dried blood, as well as a strand of lint off Cloud’s shirt.

Of all the things that could have made Sephiroth draw back from his death grip on Cloud, _that_ had to be the most embarrassing, as he picked at the black fuzz on his tongue. Away from Cloud’s shoulder after so many minutes of humiliating… _emotion_ that he just had to feel all over his major rival, Sephiroth found it difficult to even look at Cloud’s face.

Not that Cloud would give him a choice. A light touch to Sephiroth’s chin had him looking up at Cloud; Cloud’s face was bruised and filthy. A large splotch of purple decorated his forehead from where he had broken Sephiroth’s nose. “I bet we make a pretty pair right about now,” he said with a dry voice.

Sephiroth just sniffed and nodded. His own throat was sore, and he felt so exhausted. The sun had just begun to set, and the cold breeze turned into a stronger, colder wind. He pushed at the dirty strands that tried to stick to his bloodied face and sighed. “Can we go home?” he asked, surprised at how his own voice sounded so small.

“Of course.” Cloud stood up and groaned at the ache in his legs. He rested his palms on his knees and stretched a little before he offered a hand to Sephiroth. The conjured storm over them started to break and let more of the fading sunlight into their impromptu arena. Golden rays struck the side of Cloud’s face when Sephiroth looked up; the gentle smile Cloud gave with his hand made Sephiroth hold his breath.

Despite the overall ache, both physical and mental, just the picture of Cloud, dirty, bruised and bleeding, but still understanding enough to not bear Sephiroth a grudge and instead give him such a kind smile… Sephiroth was overwhelmed with the sudden understanding of “beauty” as Cloud helped him up and onto his shaky legs.

“You still in there?” asked Cloud. He tilted his head to one side and looked up at Sephiroth. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk. Just keep with me.” Cloud swapped his hold on Sephiroth’s hand and began to walk back toward his bike after he scooped up his blade. A gentle tug on Sephiroth’s fingers and Sephiroth just followed, mute and still struck by his revelation.

It was not just the fact that he wanted someone to love him, but that he _already_ loved Cloud. Somehow. Cloud’s patience and kindness towards him had already been strong reasons for Sephiroth to enjoy his company, even to call Cloud his friend. He felt terribly greedy to want so much more than Cloud had already given him. Sephiroth had never felt he really had the capacity to love; it had been taught to him that relationships were weaknesses. He had certainly cared enough for Genesis and Angeal to feel wounded by losing them… if he lost Cloud for good, Sephiroth was afraid of what he might do.

_Since when, though…?_ Sephiroth wondered as he was led back to Cloud’s bike. _When did I become so needy? Why **him?** _ Sephiroth gave Cloud a nod when a Potion was pushed into his free hand; he drank it down and felt his body’s healing response move just a little faster in fixing what had been damaged.

“Thank you, Cloud.” Sephiroth’s throat felt less raw and his voice had begun to return to him in the very least. Cloud smiled up at him as he finished his own drink and Sephiroth felt his heart jump again. He closed his eyes and turned away, tethered from going too far by the firm, yet gentle grip Cloud had on his hand. Sephiroth wanted to feel silly for letting such a warm feeling take hold of him like that, but the allure of human contact, specifically Cloud’s, held the cloying cold of depression at bay.

At least it did, until the peace of their moment was broken by a voice Sephiroth thought had been silenced over a decade ago.

_“There is no hate, only joy… For you are beloved by the goddess… Hero of the dawn._ What a charming picture to find…”

Sephiroth looked up at the devastated structures around them for the source of the voice. He let go of Cloud’s hand and drew Ame no Murakumo. All the warmth he had felt turned into burning rage. _It can’t be…_ Beside him, Cloud held up First Tsurugi again.

From above, a figure in red dropped down in front of the both of them. Genesis, just as he looked over ten years ago, before his body had started to deteriorate, stood before Sephiroth. Just as Sephiroth recalled, Genesis looked hale and healthy, eyes bright and sharp, hair and skin untarnished by the ashen gray it had been turning.

“I didn’t think ghosts were real,” Sephiroth hissed.

Genesis tossed his head back with a haughty laugh. “Now, my dear Sephiroth, you know better than to believe in ghost stories. Though you seem to haunt the Planet well enough on your own.”

“You’ve got a lot to answer for, Genesis,” spat Cloud. Sephiroth flicked his gaze at Cloud. _What does that mean?_ Sephiroth wondered as the man before them simply spread his wing in a threat display.

“Oh yes, that’s right… your little friends, the mechanic with anger issues and the melancholic beauty… Cloud, is it? The Planet is rather fond of you… Minerva is not certain you are to be trusted, however,” responded Genesis.

“Enough.” Sephiroth braced himself for a fight, even though Genesis had not drawn his weapon. The last things they had said to each other were terrible, enough to kill over. Sephiroth did not put it past Genesis to bear a grudge against him forever. “If you want my head, you have to get in line.”

“Oh, my dear Sephiroth!” Genesis put a hand over his heart. “It’s not your head I want. It’s not very sporting to take a trophy of someone else’s pet.” He pointed at Heaven’s Cloud and smirked. “It seems your Master even had you neutered. A shame that I cannot take you down in your full glory, but…” Genesis drew his rapier. _“My friend, the fates are cruel,”_ continued Genesis.

Then, he was gone in a blur of motion. Sephiroth moved to defend himself, but did not think that Genesis could move as quickly as he did, nor did he expect Genesis to tip the scale in his favor. Instead of striking Sephiroth first, Genesis had appeared beside Cloud. In a flash of green light, Cloud’s body strained to move and Sephiroth could see pure anger burning in his eyes. Genesis moved away in a red streak again and held up his prize. A pink ribbon dangled from his fingertips, stolen from Cloud’s arm and swaying innocently in the breeze.

“I will deal with your keeper later, Sephiroth. For now, we have a score to settle,” said Genesis.

Sephiroth felt heat rise in his blood, more so than he had ever felt. Cloud was under a Stop spell, just barely able to look Sephiroth’s way, and that just served to fuel the fire. _He shouldn’t be punished for me…_ Sephiroth thought as he leapt up and away from Cloud.

_“My friend, do you fly away now?”_ he heard Genesis ask as Sephiroth spread his own long-dormant wing and took to the air. He needed to get space between Genesis and Cloud until the Stop wore off. He chanced a look behind him and spotted Genesis closing in fast. Sephiroth rolled in the air and lashed out with a Bolt spell; it rolled off Genesis without hurting him.

“Damn.” Sephiroth arced back and circled to gain speed. _How did he get so much faster?_ Sephiroth wondered as he felt a blast of heat overtake him. _And stronger?!_ Sephiroth tumbled out of the sky and felt his wing crumple and vanish in the process.

As he got to his feet, Sephiroth looked up to see Genesis hover above him and felt a disgusting wave of irony turn his stomach. “Genesis… how are you even alive?” _Please don’t answer with a LOVELESS quote…_

“That, old friend, is the Gift of the Goddess. If only you had not forsaken your duties and chosen the false prophet… perhaps you could have become a true hero… but no… you felt nothing but contempt for all of those beneath you.” Genesis summoned a Fire spell and blasted it right at Sephiroth’s feet, causing him to back up on the rooftop he stood on. “That was your problem, Sephiroth!” snarled Genesis. “You never loved anything! You were just their weapon!” Another fireball was hurtled right at Sephiroth this time.

Sephiroth pushed off Genesis’ attack and glared up from the explosion of flames. “No, Genesis. I … I loved the both of you, very deeply. It was the worst pain I’d ever been in when you were gone.”

Genesis gave a derisive laugh and summoned energy into his rapier. Flames licked across the blade. “You left me to rot. Did you even mourn?”

“I lost myself, Genesis! I tried to destroy the Planet! Is that not enough for you?”

“You should have killed me, then. Sent me to Angeal.”

Sephiroth shook his head. “Angeal would be ashamed of us both. You’re no more a savior than I ever was a hero.” He put down his weapon and looked to Genesis. “I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Genesis raised his blade and called forth a swarm of fiery bolts. They rained all around and through Sephiroth, his body consumed by a hundred or more burning cuts.

Sephiroth felt the universe laugh at him as the building broke under his feet and crumble into the abandoned shell below. Just before he struck the ground, a horrible sense of déjà vu overwhelmed him. Instead of hitting solid earth, however, he felt his body engulfed on all sides by water; almost like he was drowning. _The Lifestream has claimed me at last,…_ he thought. _Goodbye, Cloud…_

He could not tell how long he drifted, but he opened his eyes and looked out at the veritable ocean he had fallen into. Glowing green waters all around, pierced by brilliant light, surrounded him. He struggled to move in any direction, and then he felt something tug on him. A shadow among all the light grabbed his outstretched arm and pulled him up.

Sephiroth coughed and rolled onto his back. Fading sunlight bleached out his vision above him. He was soaked through and felt drained. Something small slapped against his cheek. He turned his head away from it and it just followed him. He gave a tired grunt and swatted away at the shadow that smacked at him. The shadow made a small noise in response before it retreated from his sight. Another shadow replaced it a moment later, and began to lick his face.

Sephiroth pushed at the thing that licked at him, and heard a suppressed whine. He finally sat up and feet scurried away from him. A dog’s bark made his head feel ready to split in two; a softer noise, like a dove’s coo replied to the bark. Sephiroth rubbed the dirt from his eyes and looked in the direction of the sounds.

A small boy with dark hair crouched near a large dog with gray and black fur. The dog watched Sephiroth with sharp eyes – perhaps too smart to be an ordinary dog, but Sephiroth could not afford to wonder just then. He pulled his legs out of the shallow pond he laid in and stared at it. It had felt like he had been dropped into an ocean, but he could see the bottom of the pit from where he sat. It could not have gone up to his waist.

Sephiroth looked around himself again and his eyes landed on the little boy. The boy hugged the dog closely and it seemed to guard him. He could see that the boy’s clothes were in tatters, and he was very young, perhaps too young to be on his own.

“It’s dangerous to be here right now… Do you have a guardian?” asked Sephiroth, as he took a step closer to the boy. Instead of an answer, the dog growled and took on a defensive posture. Sephiroth backed off and the dog sat again. “Perhaps you do...” He turned and rubbed at his face again as he tried to get his bearings. As he faced what seemed to be the front of the church he had landed in, his mouth dropped open.

There, among dozens of bright, yellow flowers, was the Buster Sword.

Sephiroth stared after the large weapon placed up against the carved stone of the church’s old pulpit. He took a couple of steps forward and reached a hand out. Water sloughed off him in all directions, but he barely paid it notice.

“Angeal’s sword…” he murmured. “Cloud… oh no…” He remembered the feeling, the cold metal through his back and into the glass in front of him. Subconsciously, his left hand dropped to clasp at an old wound long gone with his first life. The guard was different, the gold replaced or covered by the hard-riveted steel that made up a new hilt. However, the blade he recognized; that same pattern he had studied many times, as some art dealers would the stroke of a painter’s brush. It was one of a kind, not merely _a_ buster sword, but _The_ Buster Sword. It had belonged to better men.

Sephiroth felt his eyes water as he stared, unblinking, at the familiar weapon, one that had been wielded to stop him over and over again. As he stood there, he was lost in his mourning so that he did not hear the padded and bare feet that approached him over the old wooden floor. He, however, did feel a gentle tug on his right hand. Sephiroth looked down at the dirt-covered child into a pair of familiar, indigo-blue eyes. The boy had come over with his companion dog and stood beside Sephiroth. The little one smiled and tugged at Sephiroth’s hand again, now that he had the man’s attention.

The tears rolled down his face as he looked at a much younger version of his – future - adopted son. _It has to be Zack_ , thought Sephiroth, as he stooped and wrapped his long arms around the child. The boy made a startled “peep” when Sephiroth stood again and lifted Zack with him.

“Denzel was supposed to find you,” rasped Sephiroth as he found his voice to be lacking. The boy tilted his head and blinked, then pointed at himself, both index fingers traced lines down an unwashed face.

Sephiroth frowned at the gesture. “Yes, I’m crying,” he replied gently. “That sword…” he turned enough so Zack could see. “It belonged to a very dear friend of mine, one who passed away a long time ago.”

Zack nodded and pointed toward the pond Sephiroth had come from. He pouted and touched Sephiroth’s cheek, then pointed again.

“Yes, he’s part of the Lifestream now,” said Sephiroth. The boy’s lack of questions was unusual – he had thought children to be much more vocal. “I… was there, once…,” he trailed.

As he stood there with the boy in his arms, the dog had been nearby, but wandered toward the open doors at the front of the church. Zack turned and made a noise for the dog, presumably to call the dog back, but the dog just barked and whined.

“Should we follow?” asked Sephiroth. Zack wriggled and grunted; Sephiroth held him closer to avoid spilling out of his arms. Zack pointed at the double doors that opened to silhouette, in rising moonlight, Genesis.

“No, not here…” whispered Sephiroth. “You should hi—“ Zack whimpered and hugged Sephiroth’s neck. He reached for Heaven’s Cloud again and realized he had lost it somewhere between his fall and his landing.

Genesis slowly approached through the dusty pews. The barking dog did not deter him in the slightest. “Turned to religion, have you?” Genesis taunted. “Found yourself a little shield? How cowardly, using a child to protect you. I’m insulted to think you were once my better.”

Sephiroth swallowed a lump in his throat and backed up the pulpit steps. “Genesis, you can’t kill me here, not in front of a child. I won’t allow for it.”

“Oh, but you will let me slay you? How generous.” Genesis pointed his rapier at Sephiroth. “Drop the boy and come quietly. Or go screaming, for all I care.”

Sephiroth staggered back. With Cloud away, his sword missing and the little boy still clinging to him, Sephiroth’s options were limited. He turned toward the altar and spun quickly enough to meet Genesis’ lunge with the Buster Sword.

Genesis recognized the weapon immediately. Unlike Sephiroth, Genesis did not weep over the Buster Sword. Instead, he screamed. “HOW DARE YOU!” he shouted, as he lashed out with his Rapier. Sephiroth used the flat of the blade to guard himself long enough to get a foot on the altar. He pushed off and over Genesis to land on his feet behind him, though not far.

“You will not leave here with Angeal’s sword! I’ll have your arm for your blasphemy!” shouted Genesis as he turned to give chase again. Before he could make the complete turn, the dog that had been with Zack burst out from behind a pew and seized Genesis’ arm with its teeth.

Genesis found himself being pulled down and into the dirt, the dog’s teeth deep enough into flesh that Sephiroth could smell new blood being spilled. Genesis bellowed for the hound to let go of his arm as it began to thrash and shake hard enough that Genesis dropped his sword.

“Release me, cur!”

_Sephiroth, RUN!_

Not needing a bigger prompt than that, Sephiroth obeyed the familiar voice in his mind and took off with Zack in one hand, the stolen Buster Sword in the other.

_Thank you, Angeal._

 

Sephiroth flew for over an hour, landing periodically to hide and make sure that Zack was okay, as well as to ensure that they had not been followed from the church. Somehow, Angeal as the guardian hound made perfect sense, even though it was equally absurd. Then again, Sephiroth did not stay in the Lifestream for very long himself.

When he was sure the coast was clear enough, Sephiroth slipped out of an alleyway and made his way into his apartment building. Night had fallen, though it was still early. Yet Sephiroth believed he could sleep for a year. The boy in his arms did not speak the whole time they traveled, and it was just as well. The last thing Sephiroth could have handled was a barrage of innocent questions.

The apartment was dark when he got inside. Sephiroth left Zack by the front door with a warning to stay put while he made sure that Genesis was not going to pop out of a shadow and attack again. Once the coast was clear, Sephiroth picked Zack up again and placed him on the couch. The boy giggled at the attention and patted Sephiroth’s hair when Sephiroth knelt beside him.

“So much is different already…” Sephiroth murmured. He blinked slowly as he felt exhaustion overcome him. His head dropped down to his arms folded on the couch cushions and felt sleep snatch him away from consciousness before he could even fight it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not trying to jump the shark with this chapter. I've had it planned coming out this way for a while, though initially, Rufus and the Turks were going to be a bigger threat. 
> 
> Funny how characters can surprise you. :)


	10. Stop and Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud gets a move on while Sephiroth is on the lam.

Cloud stumbled forward as the Stop spell wore off him. He had not been able to move, but he had been able to see, and he knew that Sephiroth had taken the fight with Genesis somewhere else. Somewhere away from him. Far enough away that Cloud could not even hear the sounds of fighting anymore, which was worrisome.

 _If he’s hurt…_ Cloud climbed onto his motorcycle and called up someone he hoped would be able to help.

“Cloud!” declared Kunsel. “I was hoping to hear from you…” he started, even though it had only been a few hours since Cloud had left Kunsel’s apartment. “Miss me al-“

“Kunsel, what do you know about Genesis?”

“Are you on a motorcycle?”

“Kay, _focus_.”

“Genesis is dead, Cloud.”

“No, he’s not.”

“That’s impossible.”

“ _Sephiroth’s_ alive again,” Cloud snarled as he swerved through ruins, searching the skies, trying to locate where either of them had gone. That he was turning up very little made his heart beat harder. _If he could defeat Sephiroth…_

“…fancied himself Sephiroth’s rival,” Kunsel explained, dragging Cloud from his fearful thoughts. “He hated how Sephiroth was treated like the company’s pet and marketed as a hero. I think if it weren’t for Commander Hewley, they might have destroyed the place with their ‘friendly sparring.’ Genesis always took things too far. Before he flipped his switch, the General was way more in control. But the two of them together were like a hurricane.”

“Do you think he would kill Sephiroth?”

“…I don’t know.”

Cloud slowed his motorcycle down as he came upon the old Slums. The church stood under a curtain of early evening stars, quiet as ever. A grey-black dog limped out from the open front doors and whined his way. Cloud felt… _something_ tug at him to go to the church and parked his bike. “Kunsel, would he have killed anyone out of spite?”

Kunsel snorted at the other end of the line. “He tried to pull ShinRa down before… He made copies of himself onto other SOLDIERs and treated them like tissues. Just used’em up until he was done. Waged attacks on HQ, on the offices… I think he discovered the truth about the SOLDIER program long before your buddy did, but he was dying, too. Every attack he was actually at, witnesses saw him looking sickly before he vanished entirely.”

Cloud laid his hand on the church door just as Kunsel said the last part, his stomach sinking as the realization began to fill in holes that existed in his memories of That Time. “Kunsel… when did he vanish? For good…”

“Right around the time of the Nibelheim Incident.”

Cloud’s blood ran cold, his suspicions confirmed, as he entered the church. The dog that had been by the door came up to him and nudged his knee with its muzzle. Absently, Cloud reached down to pat the dog’s large head and found a little comfort in it. “Did you see something?” he asked the dog. He did not expect it to answer, and he certainly did not expect the dog to seize him by the belt and start tugging on him.

“Whoa, hey, leggo!”

“Cloud, are you okay?” Kunsel asked, still on the line.

“Wh-yeah, there’s just this dog…”

“…a dog?”

Cloud could hear the disbelief in Kunsel’s voice, and could not blame him for feeling wary with all the questions about Genesis, and then Cloud’s distraction with a _dog_ of all things. “Look, can you just meet me over at 7 th Heaven? Genesis attacked me and Sephiroth after a spar and Sephiroth took off and now I don’t know where either of them are.”

Kunsel nearly blew out his eardrum when he shouted into the phone. “WHY DIDN’T YOU START WITH THAT?!”

Cloud hissed and pulled out his earpiece. He held the microphone near his mouth and spoke into it. “Kay, I’m trying to get a grasp on this Genesis guy. He tazed a friend of mine, then helped another out... then he attacked Sephiroth and stole my Ribbon.” He pushed the earpiece back in once his ear stopped ringing.

“That one you keep on your arm?” he heard Kunsel saying as he replaced the Bluetooth.

“ _Yes._ Now, please… meet me at 7 th Heaven. I’ll be there soon.” Cloud hung up before Kunsel asked any more questions. He walked slowly through the church and examined the state of the building. There was new damage to the roof and water all over the floor, as well as a dribbling of someone’s blood. The dog pushed up and under Cloud’s hand and whined at him.

“What?” Cloud asked. “I don’t have a—“ As soon as the dog had his attention, it bounded over to the pulpit, where flowers laid scattered all over the floor and a fresh scar on the altar where the Buster Sword had been. “It’s gone…”

The dog started to bark at Cloud, and then it shot past his legs and out the front door. Cloud turned and left the church swiftly; whatever had gone down there was over now. He had to find Sephiroth and hope that he had managed to fend off Genesis on his own.

 _On the other hand, maybe not…_ Cloud’s thoughts halted in his mind as Genesis was outside the church, sitting sidesaddle on his motorcycle. The dog stood between Cloud and Genesis and growled at the man in red. Genesis frowned at the animal; Cloud could see that the right sleeve of his coat had been shredded to the point where he saw pale skin peeking through in the rising moonlight.

Cloud’s grip on his weapon tightened, but Genesis did not seem interested in engaging. At his hip, Genesis’ weapon was in its sheath, at least for the moment.

“You have a real problem with handling other people’s things. Return my Ribbon,” snarled Cloud, his whole body tense that he even had to request it back in the first place.

Genesis pulled the thin, pink strip from his pocket. “A warrior such as you shouldn’t rely on paltry accessories.”

“It’s a gift. From Aerith,” Cloud replied.

“…Oh, the Ancient.” Genesis let the Ribbon drop to the ground in front of him. Before it hit the dirt, the dog lunged forward, snatched it from the air, and returned it to Cloud’s side. Genesis had jumped when it leaped, then looked away. “Even you turn against me,” he grumbled.

Cloud squatted when the dog came back with the Ribbon and met eyes with it. “Thanks…” he murmured and rubbed the dog’s neck. As he looked at the dog’s eyes for a brief moment, Cloud felt some sort of familiarity with it, as if he should know the animal. He shook his head and stood again. _One thing at a time,_ he thought to himself.

“So, what do you want with Sephiroth? I thought he was your friend,” asked Cloud. He looped the Ribbon around his biceps and tied it back in place, feeling much better that he had it back. Genesis would pay for his transgression in time.

“Once upon a time, he was. At least… that was how he saw it. It doesn’t matter now,” Genesis replied, with a glare back in Cloud’s direction. “What interests me is your curious caretaking of him. Did he not ruin everything you loved?”

Cloud put First Tsurugi on his back. For now, Genesis seemed to keep the hostility to his voice, and he recalled that his interactions with Cid and Vincent had not been entirely combative, either. The reminder of Nibelheim did not win him any points, however. “He hasn’t been violent.”

“That earlier fight says otherwise. He’s gotten sloppy.”

A frown pulled at Cloud’s lips. “He’s in pain, Genesis.”

“Good. Maybe the little prince should suffer a while. He left me to rot.”

Cloud ran his hand over his face. “I don’t have time for this. If you’re going to attack, attack. If you’re not going to be helpful, go away.”

“Why would you defend him? If anything, I would expect one of the Planet’s guardians to unite with me. Together, we could keep Sephiroth six feet under where he belongs!” said Genesis. As he spoke, he slipped off the motorcycle and strode forward, his good hand outstretched. “We can keep him in the Lifestream, you and I. He wouldn’t be reborn. His soul would stay where it can do no harm.”

Cloud sneered and swatted Genesis’ hand away. “You sound nuts. I’m at my limit with power-hungry dickheads.” He began to reach for his weapon and locked his eyes on Genesis. He was not going to let Genesis get the drop on him again, not if he pulled another trick like he did with the Stop spell. “Last chance. Stand down.”

Genesis sighed with a dramatic drop of his arm against his thigh. “I tried to persuade you, but it seems the spider has you tangled in his web. Consider yourself an enemy of the Planet, Cloud Strife. Your little Cetra isn’t here to protect you.”

“Her name is AERITH!” shouted Cloud as he drew his blade right into the space Genesis had occupied, but in a burst of feathers, Genesis was airborne again. Cloud shook his head, ran to Fenrir, and used it to vault himself in the air. “Not getting away this time,” he called after Genesis.

Cloud swung his sword above his head and used the weight to swing himself against another ruined structure to get him further into the air. Genesis propelled himself away with his wing as Cloud gave chase, but Cloud began to close the gap between them.

Landing with both feet on a section of corrugated metal, Cloud began to pass First Tsurugi around his body as he ran. One hand to the other and back again went the sword, until energy began to build around him. Carried by the momentum, Cloud turned himself in a complete circle,  so he was right underneath Genesis when the energy wall hit; a tornado of wind and Slum debris surrounded Genesis and sure enough, Genesis was caught by it. His outstretched wing tangled around Genesis like a heavy blanket and he dropped out of the air like a rock.

Cloud ran over to the dented crater Genesis had left behind and tackled him, his sword flat across Genesis’ chest and his weight on top of it. Genesis struggled under the feeling of crushed ribs and diminished air, his limbs caught at ungainly angles from his fall. “Get off of me, you backwater wretch!”

“Why are you after Sephiroth?!” Cloud demanded. He tensed up and sank against Genesis’ chest, with the sharp edge of First Tsurugi dangerously close to his throat. “Why do you think I’d join you?!”

Genesis flailed underneath the heft of the blade and the constant struggle to breathe. “Because you and I are defenders of the Planet! I onl…” He coughed and attempted to dislodge Cloud again, to no avail. “I serve Minerva!”

“Who the fuck is that?!”

Genesis managed to get an inch of space between Cloud’s sword and his chest, enough to inhale again. “The Goddess. She guards the Lifestream.”

“Why should I care?”

“Because The An—Aerith is the one who brought Sephiroth back!”

Cloud nearly lost his grip on his sword and leaned back, just enough to let Genesis talk uninhibited. “How can I trust you? You attacked Cid.”

Genesis snorted. “That bellowing blowhard, Highwind? I merely incapacitated him. If I really attacked him, he would have been a red paste where he stood. I am a SOLDIER,” Genesis scoffed, and Cloud struggled with the decision to beat his face in or not. He did draw his arm back, then re-thought letting his anger get the best of him.

“So, you’re just here to kill Sephiroth? What would be the point?” Cloud demanded. He let go of First Tsurugi enough to grab Genesis by his coat and shake him. “He always comes back!”

Genesis grunted at Cloud manhandling him and shook his head. “His existence upsets the natural order. No human should be able to escape the Lifestream as frequently as he has. That is what Minerva has decreed – he’s to be executed, by her Champion.”

Cloud pushed Genesis back hard enough to crack his skull on the metal plate under him and stood up. “You’re following some Goddess’ doctrine as blindly as we followed ShinRa. I think there’s a better way,” he said. He pulled First Tsurugi off Genesis’ chest and pointed the tip at him before Genesis could stand. “I think he can be saved.”

Genesis looked up, along the blade pointed at him until Cloud drew his weapon away, and holstered it on his back once again. He sat up and Cloud watched him cautiously get to his feet. His wing dissolved into wherever it went, and Genesis stood before him once more.

“Do you have so much faith in him, Cloud?” asked Genesis. The haughty tone from earlier was gone. He actually sounded _meek,_ though Cloud did consider it might be an act.

“I stopped trying to have faith. I let him do what he thinks he needs to and I’m there when he stumbles. It’s been awkward, and painful.” Cloud looked up to the sky a moment, where it was clear above them. “But… Someone has to be there.”

Genesis huffed and looked away as Cloud tried to meet his gaze again. “You blame me, then, for his failings? I was dying!”

Cloud shook his head and raised a hand to stop Genesis before he got talking again. The man seemed rather long-winded when he wanted to be, and he still had to find Sephiroth. “Look, you two can hash that out if you don’t try to kill him again. Your Goddess wants him to be good? He’s been fairly good the last few months, all things considered.”

“You can’t expect to catch him every time he falls. As I cannot count on you to defeat him every time he returns. You should have slayed him when you had the chance,” Genesis insisted.

“Yeah. Maybe I should. Maybe I should have killed you, too,” Cloud said coldly, as he turned and began to walk away from Genesis. He knew it was a risky gambit; Genesis was still armed and probably nursing a wounded ego just then. Genesis could still run him through the back if so pushed toward it.

“I will… consult with the Goddess,” Genesis stammered after him. “Perhaps there is a way to avoid bloodshed.” He sounded flustered enough that Cloud stopped and turned toward Genesis.

“I hope so.” Cloud watched and waited for Genesis to take off before heading to his bike again. When he got there, he leaned against his machine with a shaky huff of breath. _I didn’t think he’d leave…_ Cloud shivered with the memory of his own voice coming out harsh and thick with warning. _“Maybe I should have killed you, too.”_

Before he gave himself an anxiety attack and over-thought his ultimatum with Genesis, the dog that had been at the church nudged against the back of his leg. It whined softly and nudged him again, looking up at Cloud with mournful, blue eyes. Cloud knelt on the ground and rubbed the dog’s neck and felt himself tremble all over, just briefly.

“Thanks for the backup…” he said with a smile, though he second-guessed whether or not the dog could understand him. It had brought him the Ribbon without command, and had stuck by his bike while Cloud was off threatening Genesis. “That was… kinda scary, huh?” he asked, and the dog pushed up under his hand again. “I don’t know when I became so protective over Sephiroth…”

The dog yawned and licked at Cloud’s face. He chuckled softly and stood again. “I think my apartment’s pet friendly, but I don’t know how Sephiroth feels about dogs. I bet Tifa would love you, though.” Cloud straddled his bike and sat back. The dog stood near him and wagged its tail, watching him. “Up?” Cloud guessed, and patted his leg. The dog gave a bark, jumped onto his lap, and struggled to lay itself across in a decent way, which got Cloud to laugh again. “I’ll drive slow…” he promised, leaning over the animal to turn the bike on.

\---------------------

Away from where he had left Cloud, Genesis watched the bike slowly take off from the ruined church, headlights cutting through the beginnings of a light, chilly drizzle. He wanted to shake off the cold that seeped into his veins, but the sharp, definitive way Cloud had suggested he would have killed Genesis reminded him far too much of Sephiroth. Not the Calamity, not the simpering pet he stumbled upon, led around by Cloud’s own hand. Cloud’s words, the promise laced within them, was a reminder of the last days of his old friend – confident, certain of his power. Unlike Sephiroth, however, Genesis had no past with this Cloud Strife, nothing he could wager against him to plead for his life. That he had to contemplate _bargaining…_

 _He **will** kill me if I try that again._ Genesis crouched near a bent structure and thought about what Cloud had said before: the suggestion that Minerva’s verdict was just as extreme as ShinRa’s had been. _A new tactic is in order… Cloud is too fierce and protective, and I shudder to dare think what Sephiroth might do should I send his little master into the Lifestream prematurely._

“My Goddess…” he murmured, his face turned up to the rain. He tried to listen for whispers among the metallic pings of raindrops. “What _if_ he goes willingly, at peace with himself and the Planet? _Is_ salvation the answer?” he asked the sky.

The rain continued to fall around him, and Minerva remained silent. “I do not know that I can be so resolute… Cloud is partisan to human life, my lady…,” he said, when he received no answer. “He could still be an ally. Perchance, in his own way…”

Genesis closed his eyes, waited, and listened. After a few moments of contemplation, Genesis nodded. _“To become the dew that quenches the land; To spare the sands, the seas, the skies…_ I understand.”

Once again, Genesis spread his wing and took off, following the direction he had seen Cloud heading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to give a big thanks and e-hugs to all of you reading, leaving kudos and commenting! I very much appreciate it! This chapter's a little short compared to others, but I hope it still reads as a good one. This was intended to be part of a triple-update with the previous two chapters, but this one wasn't ready yet, orz.
> 
> If you have a tumblr, you can follow #ottmbo or go to http://drneverland.tumblr.com/tagged/ottmbo for updates <3


	11. LOVELESS or Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth is found by Cloud and Kunsel.

Sephiroth woke to the sensation of a hand on his shoulder. His head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, and his thoughts were like radio static, all uncoordinated sounds and the consistent whine of being stuck between two stations. Words formed and broke up in his head, familiar voices of ghosts and images of red, black and blue… He felt himself being rolled over from wherever he had fallen into a seated position, and as his back hit the edge of something, his senses started to come back into clarity.

First, there was the smell. A sick, mildew-like odor from under his coat when he moved, as well as the stench of old blood undercut by a hint of flowers. As he moved to sit, pain and hearing started to return to him in equal measure. His legs had fallen asleep where he had been draped over something – he could not recall kneeling for so long – and his head throbbed with ache. He thought he heard a voice saying his name, but it seemed familiar and strange at the same time.

As he opened his eyes, he realized there was a bright light above him, but it was artificial, and shone into his eyes, which made him flinch and shove at whoever checked him over. Sephiroth grunted and discovered his voice was raw and throat sore. He blinked away the spots in his eyes and looked toward the personal space invader.

“Where am I?” Sephiroth croaked. He tried to pick up his hand to rub at his throat, but his limbs felt very heavy, as if he were drugged. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know… two in the morning, maybe? Why didn’t you call me?”

Sephiroth’s head swiveled loosely on his neck as he turned back toward his company. “Call who? Where am I?” His vision tried to focus on a halo of gold and a body dressed in black; when the details became clearer, he felt like he should know the man who sat beside him and looked at him with an unnerving expression of concern.

“You’re in our apartment…,” trailed the blond man. Another figure, another man, with brown hair, crouched beside the first. They both had the Mako-tint to their irises. _SOLDIERs_.

“Names. Ranks…” Sephiroth coughed and leaned forward. “What happened?”

The two men looked at each other, and then back at him. Neither appeared to be dressed for any sort of mission; the blond, perhaps, but his colleague looked like a civilian.

“Sephiroth, it’s me, Cloud… this is Kunsel.” The blond, Cloud, said. “We have an apartment together.”

“General…” Sephiroth groaned to correct, but that felt like the wrong thing to say. “Cloud… Strife…” he said, trying out the name. It felt familiar, yet simply saying it made a shiver run through his body, chased by a flood of confusing emotions: anger and happiness, fear and joy, hatred and… “You… I know you…”

Cloud looked relieved and nodded. “Yes. You came back a few months ago, and have been living with me,” Cloud explained. His tone had shifted to something lighter; almost cautious in the way he spoke.

“Kunsel…” Sephiroth tried the other man’s name and felt very little for it. Kunsel just nodded, his lips pressed into a frown, which Sephiroth noted seemed he seemed acquainted with, while the rest of his face appeared to be new. “I… I was carrying something…” he said.

Vague memories, along with thoughts of “take” and “safe” and “with me now” jumbled in his head, made worse when he stood on trembling legs. Cloud and Kunsel both darted to hold him up. He had to award them points for gumption. No one ever wanted to touch him – they were all too afraid to do so.

“I had… something…” Sephiroth echoed and shook his head. “I was keeping someone safe…”

Cloud perked up and nodded. “Yes, you were keeping me safe… we were attacked.”

Sephiroth lifted his head, Cloud and Kunsel following suit, when there was a sound from what appeared to be a small kitchen in this apartment he had gotten into. The fridge door had opened and shut on its own, other sounds like crinkled paper followed suit.

“Wait here,” said Cloud. He put his hand on Sephiroth’s chest and the gesture made Sephiroth rock back on his heels as if shoved by force. Whatever had happened to Sephiroth had drained him completely, yet however hard he tried, the reasons why refused to make themselves known.

Cloud slipped away from them both while Kunsel eased Sephiroth onto the couch behind his legs. The cushions nearly swallowed him, and for a moment, Sephiroth felt ready to sink into it, had Cloud not made a shocked noise. He sprang up again, defenses ready to send him into the fray when Kunsel held him back. _Just as well…_ Sephiroth managed to think. The sudden rise had made him nauseous and he rocked again, in danger of going over onto his face.

“Hang on there, big guy,” said Kunsel. “You look about ready to pass out. Cloud’s got this covered.”

“I should help…” Sephiroth replied anyway.

From what Sephiroth could see, Cloud dropped down to his knees behind a counter that divided the kitchen from his living room. Sephiroth moved forward, propped up by Kunsel, to see what it was he had discovered.

Settling his weight against the counter, Sephiroth stood behind Cloud’s crouched form while he watched a little boy. A small, filthy child clad in tattered clothing and no shoes, who currently had his face smeared with pinkish jam and sugar from a box that sat between himself and Cloud. The little boy looked up at them both with a smile as he stuffed his face with the remains of a strawberry tart.

Kunsel, beside Sephiroth to keep him standing, drew in a gasp and covered his mouth. “It can’t be…,” he murmured. Cloud covered his own mouth with both hands and made a choked sound, an anguished sob that turned into a burst of tears.

“It’s Zack…” Cloud said.

“Fair…?” Sephiroth stared at the tiny boy, who curled his toes and giggled while he licked the sugary substance off his dirty hands, at peace with himself and his stolen treat.

_Protect him, take care of him… he needs you…_ Sephiroth realized what the alien feeling had been in his chest as his heart began to beat faster. “Zack… I found him,” he murmured. “G—Genesis chased me… into the church…” Sephiroth turned away and looked back toward the couch. He could see the handle of the Buster Sword right where he had been slumped beside the chair. Water had soaked into the carpet, and dirt and flower petals were ground into the rug leading from the front door. “I brought him here… But…”

For some reason, he _knew_ what he said was true, but he could only think of the last time he had actually seen Genesis alive. It was recently, or years ago. They said horrible things to each other. “I told him he would rot.” Sephiroth leaned his weight on the counter and pulled away from Kunsel. “But Fair was… a man. Not a boy.” Sephiroth felt his legs give out from under him and he sank to the floor. Hands grasped him as he sank to his knees, too dizzy to fight gravity much longer.

Cloud, beside him, had a red face that shone with tears. Sephiroth reached over and brushed Cloud’s cheek with his thumb. “Don’t cry,” he told Cloud, and he felt his heart jump in pace when Cloud reached up and brushed his bangs away from his face.

“It’s a good cry, Seph. A good one.” Cloud smiled up at him and then turned to the boy, to _Zack,_ and reached a hand out. “You need a bath. And more than just my tarts to eat.”

Zack made an “hmph!” noise, picked up the box, and held it away from Cloud. Clumsily, Zack got to his feet and looked at the three men who blocked his path. He pouted and held out the box to Cloud, who took it from him with a soft murmur of “thank you” before Zack waddled over to Sephiroth and climbed up onto his legs. Sephiroth leaned forward when Zack hitched himself up further with the use of Sephiroth’s crossed belts, so they were face to face.

“Yes?” asked Sephiroth, though his body was far too exhausted for him to play, if that was what the boy wanted. He had to admit, however, that the boy not being afraid of him was something new. He could not recall a time a child had approached him so openly.

Zack used his free hand to touch Sephiroth’s face, and then he drew it back and close to his own chest, fist closed, and moved it up and down. After a moment of Sephiroth staring at him blankly, Zack climbed down and approached Cloud. Using both hands together, Zack made the motion again to Cloud, who brightened up almost immediately.

“You want us to give you a bath now?” asked Cloud. As he did so, Cloud followed his words with a small series of hand signals in time with the words. Zack’s eyes widened and he nodded. With a small squeak of excitement that someone understood him, Zack hurled himself into Cloud’s arms. With a shaky laugh in reply, Cloud hugged him close, cradling the child against his chest.

Sephiroth stared at the pair, feeling left out. Cloud got to his feet without any help and carried Zack out of his line of sight. Sephiroth watched them go until Kunsel stepped into view and circled his arms around Sephiroth’s chest.

“C’mon, General. Let’s get you up and into your room.” Kunsel huffed and looked away from Sephiroth as he lifted, commenting, “Man, not for nothing, sir, but I think you could use a rinse when the kid’s done. You smell like sweat, flowers and mold.”

Kunsel draped Sephiroth’s arm over his shoulders as they walked and bore his weight; Sephiroth could not remember ever feeling so exhausted and worn out as they stumbled into the door Cloud pointed out as belonging to Sephiroth. It all felt surreal – the ache in his body, recalling that he fought with Genesis but he could not remember _why_ , finding and protecting Zack Fair, but he was a child… Sephiroth’s head felt heavy already, crammed beyond capacity while his brain tried to work out his day.

Sephiroth was dimly aware that Kunsel was trying to undress him and mutely assisted in getting his coat off. Once that was off, the stale odor that hung heavy on him fell away as his coat dropped to the floor. Kunsel stripped him of his gloves and belt, working quickly and efficiently.

“Were you a medic?” Sephiroth asked while Kunsel eased him to sit on his bed. “You’re not…”

Kunsel chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not, what? Pawing you like most people in my position might? Gimme some credit, sir.” Kunsel started to undo the buckles on Sephiroth’s boots and slid the straps until they were loose. “You’re hot, and were definitely on my list, but I’d like to think I’m not a creep.”

“What list?”

Kunsel’s face flushed as he pulled one boot away from Sephiroth’s leg. “The list of famous people I would have slept with, if I had the chance.”

“And I am no longer on that list?” Sephiroth asked. He was not genuinely curious, but continuing to talk gave Sephiroth something to focus on instead of passing out in his filthy clothes.

“Well, for a while, you were dead. Before that, I grew out of my hero-worship phase.” Kunsel fell back with a grunt as he pulled the other boot off Sephiroth’s leg, leaving him in just his combat pants. He got up to his knees and gestured to push back Sephiroth’s bangs, but Sephiroth jerked back before he could make contact. Kunsel smirked and looked away. “Besides, I think I’m intruding.”

“Intruding…?” asked Sephiroth. The way Kunsel rubbed at his face and stopped making eye contact was suspect, but his head hurt too much and his curiosity was spent as a wave of exhaustion drained him all over again. “Whatever you think, I’m sure you’re wrong…” said Sephiroth. He pushed up with his feet long enough to get his pants out from under his rear, and shuffled them to the floor with little regard for being nude in front of anyone.

Sephiroth sprawled into his bed and curled his arms around his pillow. “Please, thank Cloud for me. He is kind, to house me for as long as he claims. And thank you, for your service.”

The last thing Sephiroth heard when he heard before he passed out was the light switch on the wall as it clicked “off.”

\-----------------

Cloud sat on his bathroom floor, surrounded by muddied hand towels and washcloths. He had not realized how filthy Zack was until he got the boy under the shower. Already, he made mental plans for them to move to a place with an actual bathtub, but for now, he reached into the warm shower and scrubbed at Zack. It proved difficult, as Zack was ticklish and kept trying to wriggle away, which caused Cloud to get drenched around his head and shoulders, but as long as he got clean, Cloud was fine with it.

When Kunsel rejoined them, he had Zack cradled in his lap with a first aid kit, tweezers, and bandages. Zack whimpered and rubbed at his eyes as Cloud plucked small stones and even a shard of glass from Zack’s feet, but he did not pull away. For whatever reason, Zack trusted him, a virtual stranger, to his care.

Cloud hoped that Zack’s trust was a held-over imprint from his past life. As he worked, he glanced up at Kunsel, who watched them both with a distant gaze. “Is Seph asleep?”

“Huh? Uh, oh, yeah…” Kunsel crouched beside Cloud and Zack. Zack reached a small hand out and Kunsel let him squeeze his thumb while Cloud removed a sliver. “How can a kid walk around like that?”

“A lot of homeless people do. You either suck it up or fix it yourself. Although, I’m surprised he didn’t get snapped up by a kid gang. Younger kids are usually used as scouts,” murmured Cloud. He rinsed off the tweezers and cleaned Zack’s feet before bandaging them. “Probably because he won’t talk.”

“The amount you know about this is concerning,” said Kunsel. “Were you homeless?”

“Technically, for a while, we all were, during the Meteor Crisis. And I stayed in the Old Slums Church when I had Geostigma,” Cloud explained. “And we adopted an orphan, Tifa and I…”

Kunsel chuckled. “Sephiroth was right, then.”

Cloud taped a bandage into place on Zack’s foot, while the boy wriggled his toes through the wrap. “Right about what?”

“You really are kind.” Kunsel sighed and rubbed the back of Zack’s hand with his thumb. “You take care of whoever you can, almost regardless of who they are… or were.” He sniffed and looked away to rub at his cheek with his shoulder. “You know, Cloud, if I am stepping on anyone’s territory, here, you can tell me to get lost.”

Cloud frowned and looked at Kunsel as if he was crazy. “Whose territory? I invited you over. I needed the help.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know…”

“Just say it.”

“Were you and Sephiroth together?”

Cloud looked at Zack, who signed _“I don’t know”_ back at Cloud before Cloud looked again at Kunsel. “Not at all. I wouldn’t have… _slept_ with you if I was.”

Kunsel rubbed the back of his head and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I just… I feel like a third wheel all of a sudden. He seems fond of you.”

Cloud got up from the floor with Zack cradled in his arms, swaddled in a large towel. “It’s really complicated,” he explained as he climbed over Kunsel to escape the stifling air. “I told you that he’s not well.”

“Complicated…” Kunsel muttered as he jogged after them and caught Cloud as he took Zack into his own bedroom. “And what about you? Are you ‘well?’ I know you’ve gotta be feeling a lot…”

“Yes, I am.” Cloud sat Zack on his bed and signed for him to stay put while he got him something to wear. “My hero-turned-nemesis comes back from the dead again to tell me he had a vision of us together, married and with _this_ boy as our son,” Cloud explained as he strode quickly across the room with his smallest shirt. As he knelt by the bed, he unwrapped the towel around Zack. “And we’re living together and I’m finding that he’s socially awkward and doesn’t know what to expect from the world as a civilian.” Cloud gently pulled the shirt over Zack’s head and his arms through the holes. The shirt was still far too big but it was after three in the morning. “He burned my home town down and killed my mother. He makes me breakfast before he goes to work. He let some alien super virus control his brain and he works as a busboy-slash-bouncer for peanuts just so the bills aren’t all on me. He brought me strawberry tarts after I go and sleep with _you…_ ” Cloud curled his fingers into the shirt around Zack, who leaned forward and kissed Cloud’s forehead.

Kunsel had come into the room and crouched beside Cloud. “You regretting it?”

“I don’t know… I just… he’s trying so damn hard and kissing my ass like I’m just gonna up and kill him some day.” Cloud sniffled and dropped his head down. “And I’ve got this red menace now on some holy mission to kill him or me, or him _and_ me…” Cloud’s shoulders started to shake and Kunsel wrapped his arm around them. Zack’s hands rubbed at his head, all the boy could reach. “It’s too much.”

“I think I get why Sephiroth shut down… and you’re probably next.” Kunsel tucked his face in the small gap between Cloud’s shoulder and the side of his head. “You’re on the verge of a freak out, and you’re carrying a ton of emotional baggage.”

Cloud picked up his head and looked at Kunsel with teary, pink eyes. “I’m not gonna be your burden, if that’s what you’re saying.”

Kunsel’s smile drooped slightly. “I’m not saying it has to be me, but I don’t think you should be alone. At least not until you get things figured out.” He chuckled and looked toward Zack, who rubbed at his eyes sleepily. “You probably could use a vacation.”

Cloud snorted and shook his head. “Not like I’d have a hard time going to del Sol. I’ve even got a place. But… all the same problems would be here when I got back.”

“You could always send Sephiroth, instead. I’m sure the postage on overseas cargo can’t be _that_ expensive.”

Cloud laughed harder at the idea of having Sephiroth crated up like a zoo animal. He leaned over and kissed Kunsel’s cheek. “I’ll think about it.” He stood up and went to his closet for his sleep pants. “Would you like to spend the night?”

“Yeah, but I think I’ll take that sweet couch out there. I think you’re not gonna pry Zack outta your bed now,” Kunsel chuckled and grinned. “Never thought Fair could be an even cuter kid.”

Cloud looked out from his closet and over to where Zack had crawled up and to his pillows, having claimed one for himself to pass out upon. Cloud smiled at the sight and changed his clothes. “C’mon, you knew Zack. He was a big kid already.”

Kunsel grunted as he got to his feet once more and approached Cloud. “I think he’s in safe hands. Kid trusts you already. Probably that sweet face.”

“Mm, flatterer. You may not like me as much if Sephiroth comes out of his fugue in the morning. He’s not a morning person, and he’s rather…”

“Clingy?”

“Not exactly, but…”

Kunsel slowly put his arms around Cloud from behind and Cloud did his best to avoid tensing up at the sudden touch. “If I’m in the way, tell me. Even if you prefer me around and Sephiroth wouldn’t, I don’t want to make things harder on either of you.”

Cloud turned in Kunsel’s arms and gave him a hug. “You’re handling this way better than most people would.”

Offering a wary smile, Kunsel shrugged his shoulders. “I practically grew up around ShinRa weirdness. Not as close as the General, but…”

Cloud sighed and rested his head on Kunsel’s chest. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with him. He’s been back just over two months…”

“He already seems to be attached to you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing.” Cloud looked up to Kunsel and studied his face a moment before asking. “What would you do with him?”

Kunsel chuckled. “I have no idea. Maybe what you’re doing. Though, I sincerely doubt he’d wanna hang out with me when you’re on the menu.”

Cloud blushed and put his face down against Kunsel’s chest. “You’re not helping.”

“Hey, I’m just being honest,” Kunsel replied, “I mean, I’m getting why someone could fall for you.” Cloud looked up to Kunsel and groaned, low in his throat, as he waited for an explanation. “You’ve got a big heart and aren’t afraid of sharing it. You just took in a random orphan kid and cleaned him up. Gave him clothes and he’s passed out in your bed, stuffed full of pilfered pastries.” Cloud started to interrupt, but Kunsel put a finger to his lips. “And you’re good looking in whatever gender you want to represent. So. That’s like icing on a really good cake.”

Cloud pulled his head back and pushed off Kunsel entirely. “If you’re hungry, help yourself to the fridge, just save the tarts. Sephiroth brought those home for me. I’m sure he won’t mind Zack dipping in, but I don’t know how he feels about you.” Cloud stooped and changed into his pajama bottoms and threw on a tank top. “Just so you know.”

Kunsel grinned and saluted. “So noted. I’ll see you in the morning, Cloud.”

“Goodnight, Kunsel.”

When Kunsel left the room, Cloud laid down carefully in his bed, as to avoid disturbing the sleeping little boy on his spare pillow. Cloud tentatively reached a hand out and stroked the damp black hair and Zack let out a soft sigh before he nestled in further.

“And what am I going to do with you?” Cloud whispered. The idea of raising Zack, of saving him in a new life when he could not save him in the former was intriguing and terrifying. Not simply the additional needs a child so young had, but the fact that Zack, reborn as a little boy, was part of Sephiroth’s supposed vision. A vision of marriage, domesticity… and of peace, maybe for good this time.

Cloud wondered, before he fell asleep, if he really could love Sephiroth after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of my supporters and readers thus far, and special thanks to my friend Shawn who helped me proof this before I put it up. I love and appreciate every one of you, and your patience in waiting for this new chapter to arrive.


	12. Gestures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth has a better morning.

Sephiroth woke up and pushed himself off his bed, nearly tangled in his own hair. He stumbled out of his bedroom with a hand over his eyes, his head feeling ready to split open at a moment’s notice. Staggering to the bathroom, he managed to splash water on his face and got some down into his dry throat. He felt terrible – his body ached and his skin felt dry and itchy. Even his hair hung around him like heavy cobwebs. He could remember his spar with Cloud turning sour, and all the things he said, all the things he _felt…_ Cloud deserved about a million apologies and far more than a box of strawberry tarts this time.

Leaving the bathroom, Sephiroth rubbed at his eyes again as he stepped into the hall. He heard a stifled giggle from the living room, as well as a startled peep. Looking up, Sephiroth realized the couch was full; Cloud and Kunsel looked over the back of the couch, and Cloud’s hand was over a little boy’s face.

“Forget something, Seph?” Cloud asked. Sephiroth realized the boy in Cloud’s lap was Zack, his eyes covered by Cloud.

Sephiroth raised a brow and shook his head. “What do—“

“General, you’re naked,” responded Kunsel.

Sephiroth looked down and gasped. Now that he was aware, he recalled Kunsel helping him undress the night before. He covered himself with both hands and felt his face turn red. “What happened? I remember getting back to the apartment…”

“Well, you were in a bit of a state when we found you…,” Kunsel began.

Cloud interrupted. “PANTS!” Zack giggled again behind Cloud’s fingers, small hands clasping at his wrist, but not pulling him away.

“Right, sorry…” Sephiroth double-timed it back to his room and found his sleep pants. He pulled them on quickly and returned to the living room. He found the couch a little too crowded and sank into the isolated armchair nearby. He felt a little better when Zack launched himself off the couch and climbed up his legs and into his lap.

“I wasn’t myself last night,” Sephiroth began. “But I remember what happened…” he trailed. Zack gestured to Sephiroth, and then traced his index fingers down his cheeks.

“He’s asking if you’re going to cry,” said Cloud. He sat forward on the couch and Sephiroth noticed that Kunsel filled in the space between them. “He’s been asking all morning if I know where the ‘A Dog’ is.”

Sephiroth looked at Zack, who made a fist with his thumb at the side followed by his hand being tapped on his hip. He repeated the motion a few times, and then looked back to Cloud from Sephiroth’s lap.

“That’s what he’s been saying. That’s the sign for ‘A’ and ‘Dog’ combined,” explained Cloud. “Do you know what he means?”

Sephiroth reached a hand out and touched Zack’s cheek with his finger. Zack blew a raspberry at his face being poked, then took Sephiroth’s hand in both of his and made him open his fingers. “I’m not…” Sephiroth grimaced as another wave of pain seeped across the back of his eyeballs and he rubbed at his face. “There was a dog with Zack, when I found him in the old church.” Zack traced the lines of Sephiroth’s palm and pressed on calloused skin with his fingertips. The word “dog” made Zack look up at Sephiroth expectantly.

Cloud leaned further in Sephiroth’s direction. “A big black dog with blue eyes?” Sephiroth nodded in response, so Cloud continued. “I brought that dog to Tifa’s place before we went looking for you. I thought it was an old army dog. I mean, it followed commands.”

“A-Dog…” Sephiroth looked up to Cloud and Kunsel. “The dog fended off Genesis long enough for us to escape. I think it was Angeal.” Zack clapped his hands moved to his knees, pointing at Sephiroth’s face. “I’m right?”

“Angeal? Commander Hewley?” Kunsel gasped. “I mean, I’d say it _shouldn’t_ be possible, but Impossible is sitting with Impossible Junior in his lap.” Kunsel gestured at Sephiroth and Zack. “Why a dog, though? Why not another kid, or himself?”

“I couldn’t tell you. Zack was the last person to see Angeal alive,” replied Sephiroth. “It might have been less conspicuous, if he was protecting Zack, to be a stray dog rather than a teenager. Animals get overlooked. He might not have had a choice in the matter.”

Cloud nodded at Sephiroth’s musing on the subject, then got up from his place beside Kunsel and knelt in front of where Sephiroth sat. He got Zack’s attention and carefully signed to the boy – while saying the same words aloud: “I need to talk to him. Will you be good for Uncle Kay?”

Zack dropped Sephiroth’s hand and nodded in understanding. He turned and gave Sephiroth a hug around his neck before he turned and held his arms up to Cloud, who picked him up gently. Cloud made some airplane noises and dropped Zack on top of Kunsel, which got Zack laughing as he fell to the couch.

Sephiroth watched them play, observed how they looked as much like a family as any other, and took note of Kunsel as he reached out and touched Cloud’s arm before Cloud looked away again - toward Sephiroth, who sat up and bowed his head - he expected his terrible behavior from the day before to be brought up and held against him. There was no excuse for it.

Cloud gestured for Sephiroth to follow him, and they went together to Cloud’s room.

“Please, sit down,” said Cloud, as he shut the door behind him.

Sephiroth sank onto the edge of Cloud’s bed, limbs tight and closed in as he expected a dressing-down from his roommate. Cloud sat beside him and appeared just as tense as Sephiroth felt, though Sephiroth could not imagine why. Instead of looking at Cloud, Sephiroth glanced around Cloud’s room. In the corner, the stolen Buster Sword was leaning in the corner by Cloud’s closet, wrapped in thick material to keep small hands from getting hurt.

Silence slipped by between them while Sephiroth could hear Kunsel and Zack playing in the living room together. Cloud said nothing, and neither did he. _Perhaps I should apologize first… it seems to be what he’s waiting for…_

**“Cloud-“**  
“Seph-“

They both stopped and stared for a moment when they realized they spoke over each other. Cloud attempted to smile and Sephiroth nodded, and again, they opened their mouths at the same time.

**“I shouldn’t have said what-“  
** “I should have returned your calls.”

Sephiroth sighed and looked away from Cloud. He rubbed at his arm and studied the motorcycle calendar Cloud had pinned to his wall. “I mean to apologize.”

“For what, exactly?”

Sephiroth looked at Cloud again, trying to read his face. Cloud’s eyes were downcast and his shoulders drooped. _Not a good look on him…_ thought Sephiroth. Instead of staying where Cloud asked, Sephiroth slipped off the bed and sat on his knees in front of Cloud. It felt appropriate to be ‘beneath’ Cloud for the time being.

“For everything I can apologize for. Nibelheim. Aerith. Geostigma. For failing you as a hero. For…”

“Stop, Sephiroth. Don’t go backwards.” Cloud put his hands on Sephiroth’s shoulders. In return, Sephiroth folded his arms on Cloud’s lap and scooted forward a few inches so they were closer. “I’m not going to say I forgive you for all that, but I can’t drown myself in the past anymore. Neither should you. You’re never going to heal if you pick at old wounds.”

Sephiroth shook his head and moved his gaze away from Cloud’s face. “I don’t deserve t-“

“No. Stop it.” Cloud pushed at Sephiroth’s shoulders hard enough that he nearly fell back. “I don’t want you to hate yourself anymore. You’re not a monster. I can’t convince you you’re not… you have to do that. And you have to move on. We have to move forward _together_ or this isn’t going to work,” Cloud said, and Sephiroth just stared at him from his place on the floor.

“I don’t understand. What would you have of me, if I can’t blame myself for what happened?” asked Sephiroth. He felt lost in a fog, and that Cloud was a beacon, a sound he tried to follow through the echoes of his past. It made “moving forward” all the more difficult.

“I don’t want you to blame yourself. Stop trying to pin this on one single event or certain actions. You’re just going to go around in circles and never get better,” said Cloud. “I know because I’ve been stuck there, too. You get mired in, and then you start to suffocate.”

Sephiroth closed his mouth with a click of teeth. He had not even noticed he was slack-jawed until Cloud stopped talking. He sat there and stared back up at Cloud. “You’re too wise for your age,” Sephiroth murmured. “I can’t promise anything…”

“I know,” Cloud replied, interrupting again. “You’re already trying a lot more than I could have expected. I mean… you’re a really good roommate. I couldn’t get Tifa to do _my_ laundry on top of her own.”

When Cloud smiled at his own joke, Sephiroth realized he had been smiling back and turned his head. Cloud caught him and made Sephiroth look up. “At least you think I’m funny,” he said, smiling again, but his eyes watered.

“Cloud?”

“I should have called you back. I got your voicemails…”

Sephiroth pulled back so Cloud had to reach out further to make contact. “I was weak.”

“You were hurt.”

“I made you leave.”

“I chose to.”

Sephiroth frowned and fell back onto his rear end, further away from where Cloud sat. “It feels like everyone needs to leave me at some point. I don’t know why I told you about that stupid… _dream._ It’s not as if I could make you do _anything,_ let alone just **choose** me.”

Cloud slid himself off the bed and crawled over so they faced each other on the floor. Sephiroth folded his legs up near his chest and balled himself up. Cloud came closer, still.

“You can’t _make_ me do anything. And I can’t make you do anything, either.” Cloud sat beside Sephiroth so they were literally side-by-side, Cloud’s shoulder warm against Sephiroth’s arm. “I have a tendency to run from things that really frighten me. So… you know… you don’t scare me. Even if you came at me with a really ugly wedding dress.”

Sephiroth scoffed and pressed his mouth against his arm to muffle his near-laugh. He wanted to stop laughing, but Cloud just had a way of drawing it out of him. “What if it was your size?”

Cloud blinked up at him and his smile split wide across his face. “Not even then. You saw what I was wearing the other night. Miss Cloud demands nothing less than the best in modern fashion!” Cloud’s laugh sounded forced and hollow, not that Sephiroth could blame him for this whole thing between them being terrible and awkward.

“It may as well have been painted on you. Were it not for the skirt, I thought it was.” Sephiroth moved his arm and began to lean back when Cloud grabbed him and pulled his limb around his shoulders. Sephiroth tensed up again, but Cloud had his wrist and kept him – kept _them –_ close together. “You hardly need to get dressed up to be…”

Cloud looked up at Sephiroth and waited for him to finish his thought. When Sephiroth just stared back, Cloud prompted, “Hot? Sexy? Confident with my body? Catch your attention?”

Sephiroth tipped his head down in a shy nod. “I noticed you a long time ago. For different reasons, but you always had my attention after that.”

“You know…” Cloud looked up at Sephiroth and tugged on his hand. Sephiroth tightened his arm around Cloud’s shoulders in response. “I wondered, a lot, what ordinary people were like… to someone like you.”

“What do you mean?”

Cloud looked down, opened his palm, and pushed it up against the hand he had control of until he was holding Sephiroth’s hand. “Were unenhanced people like ants to you? Something just underfoot?”

The question caught Sephiroth by surprise. It took him a few minutes to answer, to even _want_ to answer a question like that. “If I can abuse a metaphor, most people were like fish to me… As one might see in an aquarium. Many species, all of them different, yet the same… and I was merely on the outside, unable to really interact with any of that. And, like a fish, if I took one away from the safety of their environment, it would have meant certain death for them.”

Cloud looked back up at him with both eyebrows cocked and his lip curled at the mental image. “That’s horrible. You weren’t some sort of god…”

“I phrased that badly.” Sephiroth slumped and fell back to the carpeted floor they sat on; his arm around Cloud pulled him down to the floor as well. “I just meant that I was too dangerous to be with the fish. Even if I might have interacted with a whole ocean of fish, I would need something like a bathysphere – more walls – to even get close to someone else.”

Now Cloud looked at him with a pouted lip as he curled up beside Sephiroth on the floor. “You felt separated, no matter what. That’s terrible.”

Sephiroth snorted and looked at the ceiling. “My childhood was spent like I was a zoo animal. Confined to ShinRa headquarters, without means for socialization or even understanding that there was a world beyond white lab walls and metal floors. Sometimes I wonder how I learned to speak at all.” He rolled onto his side and drew his arm back enough so Cloud’s head rested in the crook of his elbow. “It doesn’t surprise me that Zack is non-verbal.”

“You can relate,” guessed Cloud, who received a nod in reply. “Maybe I should teach you Slum sign. It’s _really_ contextual, so it’ll take a while to get the idea, but you’ve got me and Denzel to help you out.”

“That would be lovely. He seems to understand when we speak to him, however…” Sephiroth began, but Cloud shook his head and cut him off.

“It’ll be easier to get him talking if he understands the words that go with his movements. Trust me on this. I did a lot of reading.”

Sephiroth rolled so he was on his side, the apartment’s default carpeting rough against his bare side. “You’re very good with children, for someone who didn’t particularly like them as a child.”

Cloud blushed and looked up at Sephiroth with widened eyes. “You remember that? I can’t even recall telling you about it. I think I told Zack…”

“Yes, I overheard you, shortly after we first arrived. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but sensiti-“

“Sensitive hearing does that for you.” Cloud smiled faintly and turned closer toward Sephiroth, pulling on his arm to keep ahold of him. “So… why are we on the floor?”

Sephiroth looked away and up at the dusty, white ceiling overhead before he answered. “Honestly, I feel like could sleep for another day or two. I just… ended up on the ground. And I was the first one down here, you merely followed me.” He put his free hand on Cloud’s side, tentative as to allow Cloud to escape him if he preferred.

“Isn’t that what I’m always doing? Following you?” Cloud asked, staying right where he was. He did not even brush Sephiroth away.

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

Cloud’s lips parted in surprise; Sephiroth admitted to himself that he wanted to kiss the expression off his face, replace it with a look even more stunned and probably even appalled, but he chose to spare Cloud the embarrassment. “Don’t look so shocked. This can’t really be news to you,” Sephiroth continued.

Licking his lips and shifting away from Sephiroth, Cloud drew himself up so he rested on his hip, propped up by an elbow. “I’d think you’d want me as close as possible… after yesterday.”

Sephiroth rumbled low in his throat and fell flat on his back. He pulled his hands away from Cloud entirely and covered his face. “That whole exchange… I was in a bad state. I thought-“

“You thought if you beat me up, your feelings might go away?”

“Not exactly.” Sephiroth’s arms hit the floor with a loud enough ‘bang’ that Kunsel called out to make sure they were fine. Cloud assured him that they were fine with a hollered reply. When it seemed to satisfy, Cloud looked at Sephiroth again.

“Well, what was it?”

Sephiroth felt like a Behemoth was sitting on his chest, but he gathered his strength to speak. “I don’t handle myself very well. War, fighting, a sword… those are things I am capable of doing. Expressing my emotions, trying to understand why my body hurts but there’s no physical damage…” Sephiroth trailed there and closed his eyes. “You understand yourself better than me. You can…” Sephiroth felt his throat constrict. “ _Be_ with someone. I can’t.”

Sephiroth jolted and looked up when he felt Cloud’s hand on his chest. He had somehow missed Cloud moving closer to him, lost as he had been within his own head. He placed a hand over Cloud’s and held it in place, the feeling of warmth from Cloud’s hand leeching into his cold fingers.

“You don’t have to _be_ with anyone, you know. There’s nothing wrong wit-“

“I don’t want to be alone,” Sephiroth interjected.

Cloud sighed and leaned over him. “That’s not what I meant. I meant there’s nothing wrong with being _single,_ with maybe learning more about yourself and what you like. Something you can share with someone you... might love someday.”

Sephiroth sat up as Cloud backed away from him. “What about you? What do you like?” he asked.

“You’re not going to… _focus_ on me… are you?”

For a moment, Sephiroth was mystified as to what Cloud meant until it struck him. “No, I do not intend to take up your hobbies in an attempt to woo you. I’m certain that would end disastrously.”

“Yeah, it would.” Cloud got to his feet and held out his hands for Sephiroth take. When Sephiroth reached out, Cloud pulled him up without so much a grunt, but he did smile. “Take your time, figure out what you enjoy. And…” Cloud rubbed at the back of his head and looked toward the bedroom door, where beyond was a child, a little boy in need of a family.

“Help me with Zack? I know you said-“ Cloud started, but stopped and rubbed at his mouth, as if to erase his own words.

“I said we were his fathers in another future.” Sephiroth moved away from Cloud and opened the bedroom door to peek outside, toward the small living room. He shut the door and leaned against it. “I admit that the… _vision_ gave me some interesting insight into myself.”

Cloud folded his arms over his chest. “Never thought yourself a family man, then?”

Sephiroth nodded and looked down before he drew away from the door again. “I thought I only ever wanted a mother, someone to take care of _me_ and my… life. But, when I first saw Zack…”

Cloud touched his hands as Sephiroth began to tug and pull them apart. “You don’t have to tell me. I saw you out there. He climbed up onto your lap and you were fascinated.” Cloud smiled up at Sephiroth. “He’s not afraid of you.”

“He doesn’t have a reason to be. Yet…”

Cloud’s head tilted and he raised a brow, considering. “And you won’t give him a reason to be, will you? What happened yesterday…?”

Sephiroth shook his head. “Shouldn’t have happened at all. But, I promise,” Sephiroth began, and he took Cloud’s hand in both of his own, “I won’t let Zack see me like that if I feel… overwhelmed like that again. I shouldn’t have done it to _you_.”

“You don’t need to promise me you’ll be on your best behavior, Sephiroth. You’re gonna mess up,” Cloud replied with an exhausted sigh. “I mess up. A lot. We’re human, at our core. We screw up. You’re allowed to, remember? Just don’t go trying to break the Planet again. Or hurt Zack. He’s a fragile little boy now.” Cloud squeezed his captured fingers around what he had of Sephiroth’s hands. “You think you can try for me? For him?”

Sephiroth nodded, almost eagerly. “Of course.”

Cloud smiled and retrieved his hand from Sephiroth’s grip. “Before we go out there, I should teach you some words to communicate with him.” Cloud gestured toward his mouth with his hand, the fingers flat and pinched together like he held onto a sandwich. “Eat.” He gestured with an open hand, drawn down his throat. “’Hungry.’ Although, he started the morning by patting his belly, so it’s possible he learned another way. Just be patient.” Cloud cupped his hands into a “C” shape and moved them in a circle in front of his chest. “This is just the word for ‘Cloud’ in standard sign, which is different from what Zack knows, but it works. Kunsel is just the letter ‘K’, and I… haven’t figured out your name other than spelling it. And that’s a lot of letters.”

Sephiroth smirked at Cloud’s look of desperation and raised his own hands. “In the basic standard we used in ShinRa, it was this,” he began. He pointed his ear with his index finger, then drew his hand forward and closed it into a fist and gave it a small shake. Sephiroth then opened his hand and gestured toward his shoulder, with the fingers curled as if to indicate his pauldrons.

Cloud grinned at the combination of signs. “Silver General?” he said.

“Impressive. How did you come to learn the standard version?” asked Sephiroth.

“Oh, Barret’s hard of hearing. A lot of the miners from Corel are, so we all learned _some_ sign language, but I just kept it up. Helps when Denzel’s having a bad night or we want to talk without Tifa eavesdropping. She knows a good chunk of standard, but the street version is a little trickier.” Cloud’s wink to Sephiroth put him at ease. If Cloud was playful, it meant things were good between them. Maybe not repaired from his breakdown, but headed for better days.

“I think I’ll just teach him ‘Silver’ until we figure out something better for my name,” replied Sephiroth. He felt some of the tension in his stomach untwist itself; Cloud’s capacity for kindness still took him by surprise, even after living with him for over two months.

 

Out in the living room again, Sephiroth sat with Zack on the floor, legs folded up under him. “Zack?” he began. Zack looked at Sephiroth briefly, and then resumed drawing circles on a piece of paper Kunsel had found for him. Cloud tapped Sephiroth’s shoulder from his perch on the couch before he went further.

“He doesn’t understand that’s what we call him, yet,” explained Cloud. “He knows these,” Cloud continued, repeating the gestures for “cloud” and “K” as he showed Sephiroth before, “Are Kunsel and I. But Zack… _we_ call him that. He’s just given us this…” Cloud held his hand near his mouth, fingers outward, and opened and closed them. “Which… means ‘duck.’ So I don’t know if he just _thinks_ he’s a duck or that’s the name he picked for himself.”

Sephiroth nodded and moved himself to sit right beside Zack. He tapped the boy on the shoulder to get his attention, and Zack put down his pencil and smiled up at him. With such a guileless expression, yet so much like the adult man he had known, Sephiroth gulped before he tried to communicate.

“I can back you up if you stumble,” murmured Cloud. “Just take it easy.”

Sephiroth gave a nod before he began to speak, his hands accompanying his words. “I am Sephiroth,” he started. Zack nodded and imitated the gesture for “Silver” that he had chosen. “I’m happy to meet you.”

Zack grinned and replied with his own hands, translated by Cloud, that he was happy to meet Sephiroth as well. Which included introducing himself as “Duck.”

“Do you have a family?” asked Sephiroth. Though he was certain of the answer, Zack surprised him.

_“I have other children at the big house.”_

“The church?”

Zack blinked and looked to Cloud, who retranslated the word to “big house” for him. _“Yes. We stayed with A Dog and Sister came to see me.”_

Sephiroth sat back. “Sister? Is that an older girl?”

Zack nodded vehemently and touched his nose with all of his fingers, on both sides. Sephiroth frowned at the gesture. “I’m not sure…”

“It means ‘flower,’” said Cloud. “I’m willing to bet that it was Aerith.”

Kunsel spoke up from the armchair Sephiroth had previously occupied. “Fair’s Aerith? His girlfriend?”

Cloud nodded and leaned back on the couch. “Yes. If he was staying at the church, she probably checked up on him when the other kids weren’t around.” He rubbed at his eyes and stretched. “I should call Tifa, she might want to make up some care packages for the kids if they’re making the Church their home.”

Sephiroth turned around and touched Cloud’s knee. “She should meet Zack. Between my dream and Fair’s past life, I’m sure she’d be more than a little annoyed if we didn’t bring him over as soon as possible. It seems like the sort of thing that would put her off.”

“You mean keeping my possible baby away from her? Yeah, she’d be piss—d’ohsh---crap!” Cloud covered his eyes with a comically loud slap of skin. “I forgot to call her last night! I told her I’d let her know when we found you!”

Kunsel chuckled and waved from where he sat. “I texted her before I passed out. At least one of us is responsible enough to check in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the sign language described in here is ASL, with Zack's "street" sign being composed of simple "baby words." I'm really sorry if any of that is wrong or awkward. 
> 
> Also, in the "overlapped speech" part, Sephiroth is speaking in the bolder font, in case you can't tell.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience for this update! I really have no excuse. I just got really into Fallout 4. >.>;;; But the next chapter is already 4 pages in!


	13. Martyrs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A paladin and a CG Cleric walk into a bar...

Genesis went back to the church where he had driven Sephiroth, where the old pulpit had been made into a shrine to his dear Angeal’s Buster Sword, the same weapon that had been stolen by that miserable blond upstart, Cloud. It was the only explanation, that the inheritance of such a weapon could not be conceivable, that it had been stolen from Zack Fair’s corpse after it had been wrongfully gifted to Fair in the first place.

At least these were the condolences Genesis told himself, but he truly knew better than to believe his own lies – this time.

Drifting down from the impressive hole in the church roof, Genesis alighted just beside the pool of water that sat before the pulpit. He studied the scatter of light among the flower petals that drifted idly on the surface of the pond for a few moments before he realized he was not alone.

Lifting his head, Genesis looked to the nearest pew, where a young woman with long brown hair and eyes like a lush, forest green observed him with a serene smile. He drew his shoulders back and rolled them, no heavy coat that morning to hinder his movements – not with it torn as it had been.

“I finally get to meet you,” he said with a bow at his waist. “Aerith Gainsborough, the Lifestream’s-“

“Please, don’t. I’m not anything really special,” she replied. “Just ‘Aerith’ is fine.” She stayed where she sat, the reflected light from the water just piercing the edges of her form.

“You don’t want a title? Despite being the driving force that backed up Strife and his band of misfit warriors to defeat the Calamity’s son?” asked Genesis, his chest puffed out.

Aerith’s concerned look made him deflate. “…Do you always talk like that?” she asked. “It’s an appropriate description, but I’m not really here for a big speech.”

Genesis huffed and started again. “You don’t think very highly of yourself.”

“And you do. Minerva’s… _blessing…_ has that effect on some people.”

Genesis crossed the water – without puncturing the surface with his weight – and stood before her. Aerith watched him walk, but she still seemed unimpressed. If anything, he might have guessed the Lifestream’s holy attendant was exhausted.

“Titles aside, dear lady… what are you doing here, away from your post? What warrants an audience with me?” Genesis asked, and he noticed Aerith nearly roll her eyes at him. He cleared his throat. “Well?”

“I’m here to try to be friends. I know Minerva isn’t happy with me right now, but I think what I’m doing is the right thing,” Aerith said. “Sephiroth…”

“Has violated the natural order many times, as well as having taken many lives out of pure _spite_ for your dearest Cloud.”

Aerith took a deep breath and lifted her folded hands before herself. “Have you ever gotten a splinter?” she asked, in lieu of responding to his accurate assessment.

“I don’t see how-“

“That’s what Sephiroth’s damaged soul has been to the Lifestream. Realistically, a splinter doesn’t do a lot of damage on its own, but if left untreated, it can cause an infection,” explained Aerith, her voice sounding strained. Genesis felt that an appreciation for deeper conversation had gone out of style in his absence, as she got right on with her allegory. “Sephiroth, with all his hate and anger festering in the Lifestream, is what caused the Geostigma. It just made things worse to leave him there.”

Genesis stood before Aerith and folded his arms across his chest, his shadow lying across her lap and the pew beneath her. “You seek to heal his wounds, as Cloud does, to make him _want_ to die?”

“Not at all. We want him to _live,_ Genesis. He wasn’t raised to live, or value life. If anything, you and Angeal and Zack kept him from being outright callous like they wanted. But, when it was all taken away from him…” Aerith gestured openly, and Genesis noted that she did not accuse him of just _leaving_ Sephiroth, like this was somehow all _his_ fault. “He had no reason to live anymore. Not as his own person.”

Genesis nodded and gestured for Aerith to get to the point. “Yes, yes, I am aware. Jenova, the Calamity, Sephiroth’s fake mother… I’ve reviewed all of this. I even found the real mother’s tomb, and felt her sorrow.”

“You know she’s not dead, don’t you? She’s punishing herself.”

Genesis scoffed and shook his head at the idea. “Self-flagellation through entrapment in Mako. And people call _me_ dramatic.”

Aerith hid a smile behind her hands and shook her head. Genesis watched the little ringlets of hair that framed her face bounce with the movement. Overall, she was very lovely, and he felt it a pity that her life ended so abruptly, even if she became all the stronger for it. “That’s a little much… Lucrecia is just… in a lot of pain. If she perhaps knew that Sephiroth could be a better man, it might help her move on... or maybe she’d even come out of there.” Aerith looked away from him and tapped a finger on her lip, the picture of thoughtfulness.

Genesis dropped his head back and rolled his shoulders. “So you _do_ want Sephiroth to redeem himself. If not only for the Lifestream, but for others?”

“Of course.” Aerith finally stood and brushed off her skirt, though it was pristine from being mostly incorporeal. “Including you.”

Genesis nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a tingle of warmth on his cheek and realized Aerith had her hand against his face. “I don’t need him.”

“No, but you need closure, Genesis. Even if you’re working as Minerva’s servant, I can tell you’re making her mission personal,” Aerith said. “You know the connections we make are harder to break if we can’t let them go.”

“I let go of Sephiroth a long time ago, when he told me I could go rot.”

“He never let go of you, or Angeal.”

Genesis looked at her with incredulity. “That’s not plausible. Sephiroth doesn’t care about anything.”

Aerith’s hands dropped and moved behind her back. “He doesn’t?” Aerith stepped over the rubble of the church ruins, flowers near her feet bending away as if moved by gentle breezes. “Because I saw what happened last night. You… might not have noticed, but places have a way of capturing emotions.” She crouched near the pond and touched the surface gently, small ripples cascading away from slender fingers. “I’m sure you know this trick,” she said as she stood again. “Though I’ve seen you make a bigger show for absolutely _no one…_ ” As she got up, a ball of water separated itself from the pond, as Genesis had done with the waters in Ajit.

Coming closer to Aerith, Genesis avoided appearing offended at her insinuation that he was a show off. “I do what I deem necessary,” he muttered. Aerith smiled, and though he knew she was no threat to him, humility swept over Genesis, despite his own ego. She was a force of nature, to be certain.

“What the Church felt might surprise you,” she said, as she held out the little ball of water near Genesis so that he could see.

It did _not_ surprise him that it showed Sephiroth drag himself from the pond – how he had avoided breaking his neck was nothing short of a miracle – and the little boy and his dog that discovered him. Genesis barely suppressed a laugh when the Fair child began to slap at Sephiroth’s face until he awakened. “I admit, I enjoyed that,” he murmured, but Aerith shushed him.

Sephiroth, in the image, approached Angeal’s sword and Genesis could see the boy try to get his attention. _“Yes, I’m crying. That sword…_ _It belonged to a very dear friend of mine, one who passed away a long time ago.”_

Genesis scoffed and looked away from the projection. “As if I needed to see that,” he hissed. Sephiroth had something like emotions, of course. He had seen Sephiroth cleave to his towheaded companion just before that, desperate and clingy as he had been to Angeal and himself.

“You’re not paying attention,” scolded Aerith. “Don’t you want to see the best part?” She nudged him with her elbow for him to watch further, which he gave as he looked into the sphere she had conjured.

Sephiroth stood there, facing Genesis down with the Buster Sword, the blade Angeal had passed to Zack; Genesis felt the same bloom of anger roll through his chest in the same outrage he felt last night, but this time, he held it in. Sephiroth was not there for him to punish, so all he could do was stare and fume. Up until Aerith traced her finger through the water and made it so all he could see was Sephiroth, and what he had not realized the night before.

Sephiroth backed away from him, the boy held firm against his chest with one arm, the other holding out the Buster Sword to keep Genesis at bay. What he had not seen and could not tell, if even Sephiroth noticed it, was that his hand shook around the Buster Sword’s grip. The tip of the sword dipped slightly, but Genesis had been too busy threatening him to see it.

In the image, the small Fair held onto Sephiroth for dear life and Sephiroth made his escape with his precious cargo unscathed. The dog still latched itself to Genesis’ arm, as if history could show him anything different.

Just before Sephiroth spread his black wing again and took off into the night sky, he bowed his head. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. Zack looked up and nodded, briefly, just as Sephiroth vaulted them into the sky.

Genesis stood back and turned his focus onto the old pulpit. If he opened his senses, he could feel the residual vibrations of that hasty promise settled onto the fabric of the church like a layer of dust. “So? He rescued a child. Wouldn’t be the first time he did so to make himself look good.”

A shock of cold washed over him and Genesis found himself suddenly wet all around his head and shoulders. Aerith looked at him with her hands on her hips and a look of disappointed anger on her face. “You’re really going to just make excuses so you can hold a grudge forever, aren’t you? Is being Minerva’s avatar not good enough for you? Do you want Sephiroth to swear up and down that he cared for the two of you? That he _can_ care for someone?”

“Perhaps…” trailed Genesis. “He… never showed it.”

Aerith threw her hands up and looked to the sky. “You’re impossible! Of course he did! You’re just too damn self-centered to notice!”

The sudden drop of serenity and calm took Genesis aback and away from Aerith, whom he had come to expect noble grace and civility from, not this… _humanity_. He put a hand over his heart in his shock, and stared at her. “What words.”

Aerith shook her head and dropped her hands to her sides, shoulders slumped and bright eyes weary. “Genesis… I’m just trying to end a cycle of agony. Not only because the Planet needs the break, but because sometimes people need love more than they need tragedy.” She inhaled slowly and raised her shoulders again, hands folded behind her back. “Or am I wrong in thinking you’re a romantic?”

Genesis glared in offense and turned away from her. “I don’t need you to twist my arm with a challenge to my ego. But I will say that I find your method unconventional, and hardly in line with the order of nature.”

Aerith giggled behind his back and Genesis rounded at her again. “Nature is never orderly. Nothing’s ever neat and clean. It does what it wants. You’re talking about the cycles of life and death, which are only orderly if you look at the big picture.”

“What, then, do you suggest? That I merely allow the course of things to come to just… _happen?_ Step back and watch as the world burns again?” demanded Genesis.

“There’s a lot of things that could happen. You and I both know that. Or doesn’t Minerva let you _see_ what you’re championing? Did you know there was a possibility that you and Angeal _weren’t_ going to stay together forever, had you been cured?” Aerith took a few steps closer to Genesis. He found himself taking a step backward as she talked. “Or that Angeal could have been the one to discover the origins of your birth? Do you think he would have told you? There was an outcome where he did, and one where he didn’t.” Aerith’s voice dropped low and she had backed Genesis up to the water’s edge, where he wind-milled his arms before catching his balance again. “Do you know there’s world where I live? Millions of them, in fact. And millions more where I’m still dead. By Sephiroth’s hand… _by yours…_ before I’m even born and the world turns to ashes anyway.”

Genesis shook his head and put his hands on her shoulders. He put her back a good arms-length before he replied, “What you’re talking about is the literal infinite, which is a _theory_.”

“It’s only a theory to those who can’t measure it,” Aerith said back. She swatted his hands away and gave him a wider berth. “I’ve come to have a decent grasp of just my little part of the Lifestream, but what I know is… Mako may not last forever, but the energy doesn’t just _go away_. It’s so much older and so much _younger_ than anything I can possibly describe.”

“Then it is truly a source of power that shouldn’t be in human hands,” said Genesis. “But… if every possibility exists, and the world ends up burning anyway… why try to save it?”

Aerith looked to the sky through the church’s broken roof. “Because this is _my_ world. I can’t change the others, but I can save mine.” She dropped her gaze to meet his again and there were tears in her eyes. “You can help me, or you can fight me every step of the way, but please, try to understand… they need this. We all do.” She carefully wiped at her eyes with a fingertip. “Please… tell me you’re more than your anger lets you be.”

Genesis pressed his lips into a small pucker and thought about his choices. Cloud had already threatened him. Minerva ordered him to take Sephiroth down. Aerith asked for his help. Moreover, he _was_ still angry. Wounds like what he had endured never went away. They just left scars.

“I am more than my anger, of course,” said Genesis, his voice dry and caught in his throat. “But, can you tell me… why Angeal would choose to betr—well, choose to protect Fair’s new self?”

“If you have to ask me that, you didn’t really know him as well as you’d like to believe,” was Aerith’s reply.

For that, Genesis nodded his assent. There were many facets to Angeal he knew, and many more he discovered when Angeal had taken up the role of mentor. Such care and concern for Zack, the desire to teach and pass on a legacy, even if Fair was only a few years younger… _Angeal would have been a wonderful father…_ Genesis thought. “No, you’re right… I should have seen it coming.” He took a deep breath and glanced where Aerith had been standing, but she was gone. “Should have seen that coming as well…,” he muttered.

_Time to get started, I suppose…_

 

Genesis did not need very long to hunt down a particular fluff of gold hair among all the other civilians on the street. Even with Sephiroth’s hair tucked into a hooded jacket, his stride gave him away: all legs, but slow and deliberate steps to allow Cloud to keep up with him. For a short while, a third man was with them until he seemed to beg off and leave the two with the boy and their own errands.

Genesis did not fly to avoid attracting attention, instead leaping and vaulting himself across rooftops until they crossed a road to a mall. What purpose they had going there, Genesis was unsure, but he slipped down to the ground level and got behind them enough to tail the trio as they passed through the great glass doors. Sephiroth pulled back his hood as they entered, making him the perfect target for Genesis to keep eyes on.

They paused at a rack of plastic carts advertised “For Our Littlest Shoppers!” which Cloud tucked the miniaturized Zack into one, and began to push him along. Genesis could see just the hint of an amused smirk on Sephiroth’s face; he knew the look too well. _It probably tickles him to see Fair in a child cart. Probably the closest they have to an actual leash._

The first place they went was a large department store attached to the mall, one boasting a sale on children’s clothing and then their mission became immediately clearer. The boy had no clothing, and those two bachelors had nothing to provide as a hand-me-down to Zack.

Genesis considered waiting outside until they presented themselves again, but decided that the store was large enough that they might get away through another door; he decided to follow them in, and stayed a few racks away at all times. At first, using a few mirrors and a pair of sunglasses to watch them pass toward the children’s section was easy, and then he needed to stay closer as he ran out of reflective surfaces and the shelves started to obscure Sephiroth’s ridiculous height.

The Children’s Corner of the store was garishly bright; too bright for anyone to miss. Primary colors and short mirrors as well as mannequins that, while seeming innocuous, with blank faces and wearing the latest in kid fashion, were still unnerving. Genesis had to crouch to avoid being seen as Sephiroth awkwardly side-stepped a child running from her mother. Soon after, Sephiroth stopped and sat near the changing rooms, while Cloud went looking for clothing.

Genesis meant to keep his eye on Cloud – he was still near the clothing racks where Cloud could find him – but a loud shriek from the changing area caught his attention.

Sephiroth was dragged down to his knees with Zack squirming in his lap. The shriek, almost a “no!” but more of a “nugh!” was Zack’s protest over _something,_ and it was enough to bring Cloud back, asking what was wrong.

“I don’t know… I tried to get him to try on a pair of shoes and he vaulted from my arms…,” explained Sephiroth. The shoes were behind him, abandoned as Sephiroth held onto the boy before he got too far.

Cloud carefully pulled Zack out of Sephiroth’s arms and checked the boy’s bandaged feet. “It doesn’t look like you pulled anything…” he offered. “Zack?” He made some sort of gesture to get Tiny Fair’s attention and Zack looked up at Cloud like he was a traitor. “You wanna try the shoes?” Cloud asked, his hands awkwardly following his words while he tried to hold onto the boy.

Zack shook his head vehemently and curled his legs up. Cloud gave Sephiroth a hopeless look, and even though Genesis only had a view of the back of Sephiroth’s head, he knew just by the set of his shoulders that he was thinking of a plan.

“Give me a moment,” Sephiroth said, and he moved away from where Cloud sat with Zack on the floor. A promised moment later, Sephiroth returned and knelt once again. “Zack?” he asked. When Sephiroth had Zack’s attention, he held out what he had gone looking for – a pair of very fuzzy socks. “Here…” Sephiroth touched the soft material to his own cheek, and then held it against Zack’s face. “Soft.”

Zack carefully took the socks from Sephiroth and rubbed them against his face. After a couple of strokes, Zack held them out to Sephiroth again, who gently pulled them over the wraps on his feet. “Let’s make sure we don’t lose the tag,” murmured Sephiroth.

“How did you know that would work?” Cloud asked. He looked at Sephiroth with wide-eyed admiration, and Genesis felt his stomach churn. _The adoration never dies, does it?_

“When I was small, Gast’s assistant would offer me a chance to feel something before it was placed on me. She was a rather kind woman, compared to Hojo’s much… colder co-workers.” Sephiroth’s explanation was quiet, so much so that Genesis barely heard it, but he did… moments before a store clerk tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, sir, do you need help with something?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...The cleric Reflex saves, and the Paladin takes 1d4 damage to his face.
> 
> just a little D&D humor for y'all. Hope you enjoy this next chapter. I've been ill (flu and bronchial infection, woo!) so I meant to get this out sooner (because I love you guys). But I'm getting better (hooray for meds!), so the next chapter may be out sooner than you think!
> 
> Also, hoodie!Dad Sephiroth. Picture it.


	14. Babysitter Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth and Cloud realize they've been followed.

Cloud heard a commotion come from just outside of the children’s section and got to his feet. He passed Zack into Sephiroth’s lap as he got up. “Hold onto him,” said Cloud, moving away just as store security started to pull _Genesis,_ of all people, away from an aisle.

_He found us,_ was all Cloud could think of, and he wanted to be immensely angry and let Genesis be punished for trailing after them – but Cloud knew the accusation of someone creeping around the kid’s department might spook a whole bunch of people. The last thing he wanted was for a whole store’s worth of shoppers to feel unsafe. _He’s going to owe me for this…_

“Gen!” shouted Cloud, catching not just the attention of the man in question, but the store security and the eagle-eyed clerk’s as well. “Is that you? When did you get to Edge?” Cloud boisterously cut through the group to Genesis, his best-played smile up at the appropriately confused redhead. “You didn’t even tell me when you were coming back to this _continent,_ man!”

“Sir, you know this gentleman?” asked a security guard, one who had Genesis by the elbow.

_At least he didn’t overreact to being nearly arrested…_ thought Cloud, as he continued on with his lie. “Yeah, totally! Old friend of mine. Haven’t seen him in years!” Cloud wormed a hand in between a stunned Genesis and the guard to pry him free. “Why don’t you come over and say hi! Meet my kid. He’s just the sweetest thing…”

Genesis finally caught up to the act and cleared his throat. “I was going to surprise you, but I saw your boy was having problems…” he carried on, acting a little _too_ casual – and he had seen Zack’s fit over the shoes?

“Yeah, he’s got a sensitivity…” said Cloud. His grip on Genesis’ arm firmed up enough that he could read Genesis’ elevated pulse through his thick SOLDIER sweater.

Still playing up the ‘happy family’ aspect for the eyes of the watchful security staff (and that particularly nosy clerk), Cloud dragged Genesis over to where Sephiroth had Zack curled in his lap, the latter of which who was happily feeling the fuzzy socks on his feet.

“ _Honey…_ ” Cloud began, and the look Sephiroth gave him might have made him drop the whole charade right there, as he nearly burst into laughter. Eyes wide, eyebrows cocked with his disbelief, then the expression sliding into confused anger over Genesis being present during a routine shopping trip – Sephiroth’s facial tics were subtle, but still there.

“Yes. Sweetheart?” pronounced Sephiroth, whole body locked with tension. A small squawk of protest from his lap indicated that Sephiroth’s protective hold on Zack had gotten a little _too_ tight, and Sephiroth loosened his grip before he left a bruise.

“This is my old _friend,_ Gen…” started Cloud, making nice with the introductions until the security team fizzled away and went back to their regular tasks. Still, that one clerk was hanging around, so Cloud kept his voice low, his smile big and his threats tangible.

“Seph, sweetie, why don’t you finish up with Zack? Get whatever makes him happy…” Cloud fished out his wallet one-handed, his grip on Genesis’ arm firm and unyielding. “Just put it on my card and I’ll meet you two outside? O-kay?”

Sephiroth’s eyes widened slightly at the slightly manic smile on Cloud’s face, especially with the grip he had on Genesis’ forearm. “Yes, of course. Come on, little one… let’s get you clothed…” Sephiroth got to his feet again and tucked Zack into his yellow shopper cart without much fuss. Instead, Zack seemed interested in glaring at Genesis from beneath the shiny plastic canopy.

Once they were far enough away that Cloud was sure Zack could not see Genesis, he switched his grip and began to haul Genesis out of the store. Out they went, back into the main corridor and beside a map kiosk.

“Okay, seriously – WHAT THE HELL?!” Cloud hissed, keeping his voice down but his anger at the forefront. “Are you just seriously that much of a _douchebag_ that you have to stalk us?!”

Genesis pulled his arm away from Cloud and pointed in his face. “I was _trying_ to find you because I have spoken with your little Cetra friend.”

Cloud stiffened his spine and glared back at Genesis. “Oh? Did she tell you to track us down in a _mall_?!”

“No!” huffed Genesis. “She and I had a discussion. About… _him_. And you, subsequently.”

“What did she have to say?” asked Cloud. He felt his spine loosen and his arms droop. He had just barely gotten through a night with Sephiroth losing touch with reality and Zack rabbit kicking him in the side while he slept. Not to mention the million little things he would need to do to make sure Zack was comfortable in his new home – Cloud really did not want to end up in another battle.

“She… illustrated a point to me. One that I am sure you can appreciate. That…” Genesis cleared his throat and looked away. “Look, she told me that she wants to save this world by giving Sephiroth a reason to live instead of a reason to be an angry, angsty little thorn in her side.”

Cloud watched Genesis’ profile; his arms folded up tight around his chest and he seemed even tenser and stressed out than Cloud did – which would be quite the feat at the rate they all were going. If Genesis was finally going to give up the ghost, Cloud decided he might as well broker peace between them all. It was certainly less messy than the alternatives.

“Okay, so she told you to back off. Are you going to?” asked Cloud.

“I’m going to… observe. Since our little chat last night, Minerva has been… vague about what to do at this juncture.” Genesis shook his arms out and looked down at Cloud. “So, I have just decided to personally take it upon myself to make sure that Sephiroth is… adjusting.”

Cloud’s voice came out flat; he barely recognized his own words. “Adjusting,” he echoed. “Okay.” Cloud looked away and smoothed his hand down his face. “First thing’s first. You’re going to suck up to Zack.”

Genesis looked like he had eaten a frog – and had started to turn green in the process. “What do you mean, suck up to Zack? He’s _your_ responsibility.”

Taking Genesis by the turtleneck, Cloud yanked him down so they were eye-to-eye. “I saw the way Zack glared at you. You’re the bad guy to a kid. You want to be around to ‘observe’ Sephiroth? You’re going to have to pass the gatekeeper – in this case, Zack. If he doesn’t warm up to you, you’re not allowed near us. I’m not going to have you hovering nearby like some sort of Uncle Boogeyman and stressing my kid out. Understood?”

“ _Your_ kid?” Genesis smirked at him. Cloud could have decked him for it. “Of course. What do you recommend?”

Cloud shoved Genesis back and pointed to a spot on the map. “There’s a toy store one floor up. Get him something. Something _nice_ , and not cheap. Make a peace offering to him, and if he accepts it, maybe I won’t rearrange your face.”

“Is that your diplomatic approach? Violence?” mocked Genesis.

Cloud snorted and rolled his shoulders. “Killing Sephiroth a few times seems to have worked. Why change a winning formula?”

“Barbarian.” Genesis scoffed and tossed his hair back, and Cloud felt his hackles rise at the haughty tone. “I will set to your little task and find something that little Zackary will enjoy and will certainly win him over. Maybe he’ll call me ‘daddy’ instead of _you.”_ Genesis smiled and strolled away from Cloud, off to find some sort of toy to appease Zack and so Cloud could just be rid of him.

Behind him, Cloud heard Sephiroth’s voice before he saw him. “Grating, isn’t he?”

Cloud took a steadying breath and slowly turned around. He must have shown something on his face to give away how he felt, because Sephiroth just chuckled at his distress.

“Sometimes, I wanted to deck him myself, but then I’d have to hear about how it would be rather unbecoming if I started knocking out the brass,” continued Sephiroth. He pushed the plastic cart forward and Zack leaned forward with his arms outstretched. Sephiroth crouched and unbuckled Zack to deliver him into Cloud’s arms. “Still, his infuriating nature was endearing. Probably because no one else had the balls to talk to me like that.”

Cloud hugged Zack against his chest and felt the tension drain out of him like a burst pipe. “I would have hit him anyway. But I was a scrappy kid, too.”

Sephiroth smiled and nodded. “I know.”

After hugging Zack for a moment or two as they waited for Genesis to return, Cloud set Zack down on his feet and poked at the bags Sephiroth had on his wrist. “You got him a whole wardrobe?” Cloud asked. “I can see winter boots in there.”

Sephiroth cleared his throat and glanced toward the other shoppers filing past them. “It’s getting colder, and they’re fuzzy on the interior, like his socks…” He stopped speaking when Cloud put a hand on his arm.

“It’s okay. Glad to know you’re thinking ahead.”

“I wouldn’t have been a very good leader if I only thought of the present.” Sephiroth leaned down and scooped up Zack again before the kid had a chance to wander away. “I also bought some things a little larger than you recommended. He will outgrow his clothing before long.”

Cloud took the bag from Sephiroth entirely and smiled up him, a little struck with awe and fascination that Sephiroth actually had _plans_ in mind. Ones involving the long-term care for a little boy he literally just met the night before. “Did you really come up with that, or…?”

Sephiroth carefully pried some of his hair from Zack’s fingers before he pulled too hard on it. “I asked someone nearby.”

Cloud chuckled and signed to Zack, asking, “Do you like your new clothes? Did he let you pick anything out?”

Zack signed back “yes” twice, including “I got ears.”

“Ears?”

Sephiroth gestured with his free hand to the bag. “A winter hat with ears on it. It looked ad—“

Cloud grinned. “ _Adorable?_ Sephiroth, were you playing dress up in there?”

The pink flush across Sephiroth’s face was downright endearing, considering the day before, Sephiroth had been almost terrifying again. “Absolutely not. We would have been in there for much longer if we had. I just let him drag me to some things he seemed to like and supplied some extra items when it seemed like he was avoiding any sort of pants. He’s very fond of shirts with things on them.”

Cloud’s laughter only lasted a couple of minutes, as Genesis rejoined the three of them.

“Laughing at Sephiroth? This can only be a good thing,” he supplied. Genesis had a blue bag from the toy store, with something yellow and fuzzy poking out of the top. “As requested, a peace offering.”

Cloud took a deep breath. “All right… let’s see it…” He pushed the shopping cart to a bench and sat down. Sephiroth moved Zack onto Cloud’s lap as Genesis sat at the other end of the bench, almost hesitant in his approach as he set the bag down in front of Zack.

“What’s in it?” asked Sephiroth.

“That would spoil the surprise if I merely told you,” replied Genesis.

The bag itself already had Zack curious. Zack scooted forward on the bench and pulled on the handles, so Genesis pushed the bag closer to him. “Go on, it’s for you. Little… Zackary.”

Zack sat back and turned around to look up at Cloud. Cloud signed to him to look inside; with approval, Zack looked inside the bag, and then peeled the blue plastic away entirely to reveal a new plush Chocobo, almost as long - with its velvety, orange legs - as Zack was tall. When Zack took it out of the bag and hugged the stuffed creature, Cloud heard Sephiroth suck in a harsh breath.

“What’s wrong?” asked Cloud. In the corner of his eye, Genesis folded his arms across his chest, offended at Sephiroth’s reaction, but Cloud was just concerned with Sephiroth.

“That’s…” Sephiroth coughed and cleared his throat. “It’s lovely, Genesis. He seems taken with it already.”

Cloud nodded and decided he could ask Sephiroth later. They had clothes for Zack and his first toy – the hard part would be introducing him to Tifa and the others. So far, Zack had been trusting of his new guardians, but Cloud could not help but wonder if meeting so many people at once would overwhelm him. Still, there was only one way to find out.

“Well, now that we’re done here, let’s get headed to 7th Heaven,” suggested Cloud. “Are you going to tag along, Genesis? Might as well rip the bandage off now and meet the family if you’re going to hover over Sephiroth’s shoulder.”

Genesis stood from the bench and made a show of dusting off his pants. “Going to introduce me to more of your brutish clan, then? I can withstand a gauntlet.”

Sephiroth scoffed and picked up Zack so Cloud could stand again. “But how would you fair against Tifa…?” he mused.

 

As it turned out, Tifa was still more prone to violence than Cloud was.

When they arrived, Vincent, Cid, Denzel, Elena and Tifa were all in the bar, waiting on them. Mondays were usually the slowest, as people were too “hungover” from the weekend festivities to want to approach a bar. So, that the interior was devoid of anyone not considered a part of the family was not shocking.

What actually caused the most surprise was how Tifa received Genesis.

“So, wait, you’re telling me that Genesis, who tazed Cid, who hit on Vincent without regard to his comfort and who nearly gave Sephiroth a nervous breakdown… is also the reason why Nibelheim went down in flames?” asked Tifa. Her hands gripped the counter top hard enough to crack through the glossy lacquer and expose raw wood underneath.

Sephiroth, to Cloud’ surprise, raised a hand in defense of Genesis. “It is not so much that he caused Nibelheim to burn it’s that…”

“No, I think I remember now. I was nearly _fucking dead,_ and this asshole’s voice goading you…” Tifa came out from behind her counter and approached Genesis. “ _He’s_ the one who called you a monster.”

Genesis cleared his throat and casually sidestepped Tifa to put Cloud and Sephiroth between them. “In my defense, I was dying, and he wasn’t willing to help me.”

“I never said-“ Sephiroth began, but Tifa clapped her hand over his mouth.

“No, I know the story. Your genes are too… Jenova-fied to be shared, or whatever,” said Tifa, but her eyes were still on Genesis.

Cloud hefted Zack up in hopes of distracting Tifa so he would not have to help Genesis pick his teeth up off the floor. “Ti, now’s not a good time to-“

Tifa glared daggers at Cloud and he gulped. “I tried…” murmured Cloud.

“—he and I were rivals,” Genesis attempted, but Tifa was still circling Sephiroth and Cloud like a Nibel Wolf following wounded prey. “We said a lot of painful things to each other – if you do recall, he told me to rot…”

Tifa stopped and glared at Genesis over Cloud’s head. “And yet, here you are. Very much not-rotted. So, where were you when he went Fire happy all over my home town? Whimpering in the corner that _you_ were dying? What kind of a hero were you going for? Ineffective?!”

Genesis snarled and pushed through Sephiroth and Cloud as if they were a pair of doors and puffed himself up before Tifa. “Now see here – I was in no position to stop Sephiroth from burning _toast_ , let alone a whole town. My body was weak and crippled-“

“Not so much that you couldn’t fly your poncy ass all over the Planet,” barked Tifa, pushing herself right up against Genesis’ chest. Cloud did not think he could have wedged a hand in between them if he tried – not that he wanted to _lose_ a hand in the middle of them, anyway. Tifa poked her finger right against Genesis’ sternum as she continued. “At least, if you had tried to stop him, you could have died doing the right thing. What are you now?”

The whole room was tense and still, quiet enough that Cloud could hear Genesis grind his teeth together before he answered. “I am a servant of Minerva,” he answered, stiff and his voice coarse.

Tifa scoffed. “And it only cost you the lives of a few dozen innocent mountain people to obtain. Has it been worth it?”

Genesis’ lips parted and his shoulders sagged. He took a step away from Tifa as he thought about her statement and the question it raised. “I…” He looked around at the others in the room, everyone who watched him now, in anticipation of his answer. “I’m sorry,” was all he could come up with.

Tifa nodded and rolled her shoulders. “You’re sorry.” She nodded again and Cloud heard her bones pop as she flexed her arms back in a wide arc. Sephiroth grabbed Cloud and pulled him away from Genesis before they were caught in the crossfire. Just in time – Tifa cocked back and slugged Genesis just as Cloud was out of striking range. Genesis fell flat on his back with a pained grunt.

Cloud snort-laughed and tried to hide it between Zack’s shoulders, while Zack outright giggled at Genesis taking the fall. Sephiroth bit his bottom lip and tried to look sympathetic, but Cloud read the sheer delight in his eyes at seeing Genesis laid out in a single blow. Tifa had not even hit Sephiroth hard enough to knock him down.

“Barbarians,” Genesis groaned from the floor as he sat up. He held onto his nose where it had started to bleed, and Denzel came from the kitchen with a baggie of ice and a paper towel. “Thank you. At least _one_ of you is civil.”

Cid snorted from his stool. “What, you don’t think Vincent’s civil? He never hit ya when you really deserved it,” he said.

“I did try to shoot him,” Vincent supplied.

“Oh yeah…”

Genesis got to his feet and wavered like an unstable stack of books. “You’re not helping,” he grumbled. Sephiroth finally showed some pity and helped Genesis to a chair, much to Genesis’ genuine shock. “…Thank you, Sephiroth.”

“You’re welcome. As much as I enjoyed that, I don’t want to have to mop up more blood if you take another fall,” Sephiroth replied.

Genesis held the bag of ice against his nose with a hiss. “Your empathy has truly come a long way, my dear Sephiroth. My job here is done.”

“What job is that?” asked Cid.

Cloud had crossed the room to place Zack on the counter where he could “meet” Tifa. “He’s going to hang around Sephiroth and watch his… _adjustment_ to being a civilian,” replied Cloud. He sneered and shook his head at the idea. “Which makes it sound like Sephiroth is some kind of-“

“Holy parolee?” finished Tifa.

They high fived over the counter without looking at one another. Genesis glanced at Sephiroth when he chuckled at Cloud and Tifa.

Sephiroth sat at the same table as Genesis before he responded. “It’s how they operate. I wouldn’t question it.”

Genesis nodded. “I… see.”

Tifa leaned on the counter, beside Zack, and extended her hand. Zack responded by clasping her fingers in both of his small hands and pulling it closer to look at like he had done with Sephiroth that morning.

“So, non-verbal?” she asked.

Cloud nodded. “So far, but he understands sign language for the most part.”

Denzel perked up at the mention of sign language and moved closer to greet Zack. _Hi, I’m Denzel,_ he introduced, spelling his name out for Zack. Zack just said “Duck” back to Denzel, and then continued to examine Tifa’s long fingers.

“Duck?” asked Denzel.

Cloud shrugged and ruffled Zack’s hair to the sound of a little squawk in protest. “He doesn’t quite understand what names are yet, so he just calls himself ‘Duck.’ My name’s easy, but Sephiroth is this,” explained Cloud, including the word for “Silver” that they had come up with that morning. “He’ll get it with time.”

Denzel giggled and patted Zack’s hand. Zack looked up again and waited while Denzel asked him a few questions, and the two had initiated a conversation that even Cloud had a little trouble following. However, he was glad that Zack and Denzel were getting along; the last thing he wanted to deal with was a potential for adoptive-sibling rivalry.

Cid leaned into Cloud’s space but gestured behind him with his thumb, to where Genesis and Sephiroth sat, separated from the group and leaning away from each other like the sibling rivals Cloud expected out of their younger family members. “What are ya gonna do about that lot? I mean, Sephiroth living with ya is one thing, but this has the makings of an explosion all over it.”

“We _can_ hear you, Highwind,” muttered Genesis. “Superhuman abilities and all that rubbish.”

“You could at least _pretend_ not to,” hissed Sephiroth.

Cloud looked at the two of them and rubbed at his forehead. “Take a lot of aspirin, probably.”

As Cloud contemplated his potential headaches, Zack turned around and pointed off the counter, repeating “Ah! Ah!” Cloud caught Zack before he fell from the counter and turned to see the hound he had brought back with him to 7th Heaven.

“Ah!” Zack made the “A” sign and tapped at his hip; the dog barked and put its large forepaws on Cloud’s side, licking at Zack’s outstretched hand.

“This is A-Dog?” asked Cloud. Zack nodded and wriggled, trying to get free from Cloud’s grip. Cloud finally put Zack on the floor, and “A-Dog” bowled Zack over with happy licks and nuzzles to the boy’s face. Zack broke down in a fit of giggles and hugged the dog from the floor.

Vincent’s deep chuckle bubbled up behind Cid. “Whatever your choice, Cloud, it’s going to involve a boy and his dog.”

Cloud sighed in resignation. “At least it’ll be cute.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's day, my dears! thank you all for the comments and well-wishes!


	15. Faulty Logic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth tries to resolve a problem, is presented with another.

When Sephiroth was a little boy, Professor Gast presented him with a logic puzzle. In it, a man from a poor village earned money by ferrying things across a river on his rowboat. One day, a farmer approached him with three things to move: A bushel of Greens, a Chocobo, and a Nibel Wolf.

The problem the man face was that his boat was only large enough to ferry across one thing at a time, so the other two had to be left behind as the third was moved. The difficulty was that the Wolf would undoubtedly eat the Chocobo if left alone with it, and that the Chocobo would eat the Greens.

After a long argument with Professor Gast as to _why_ a farmer would raise all three things and expect them to survive without incident, and why the farmer would even _keep_ a Nibel Wolf, as well as the reasoning behind needing to only move one of each item across, Sephiroth did solve the puzzle.

But it was that logic puzzle that Sephiroth was presented with again, feeling that he was the irrational farmer with three things that would undoubtedly consume one another if left alone: Zack was his bushel of Greens and Cloud was undoubtedly the wolf – the wolf would never eat greens, said the Professor.

That left Genesis as his wily Chocobo, despite Cloud’s better resemblance to one. As long as he kept Genesis away from Zack, or at least under supervision, Cloud probably would not eat Genesis alive. Probably.

The answer to the logic problem was to move the Chocobo first.

However, they were all crowded into one apartment because Tifa swore off taking in any more boarders. While Genesis was around, Tifa _insisted_ that Cid and Vincent “stay a while,” as Tifa claimed to hardly ever see them.

The fact that she gave up Cloud’s old room and the conveniently “forgot” to mention the foldaway bed that Sephiroth had used during his stay did not go unnoticed. Sephiroth could hardly blame Tifa, however. Genesis’ personality was overbearing when he was worked up, dramatic when he wanted the attention and only slipped into genuine feelings if one managed to overcome the rest of his ego. No easy feat for the impatient.

So it went that Genesis ended up crashing on Cloud and Sephiroth’s couch like a high class freeloader; the first week was fraught with tense mornings where Cloud made sure he was up with Zack for breakfast with at least _one_ blade on his person. Sephiroth continued his routine of making their early breakfasts, with the added difficulty of trying to learn what Zack _would_ eat. Though deprived of it for most of his own childhood, Sephiroth was certain Zack would only consume things made entirely of sugar, or that tasted close enough to fool a preschooler. Cloud was rarely ever picky about what he ate in the morning, so Sephiroth felt some of his guilt about plying Zack with sweets was assuaged by at least getting something healthy into Cloud’s stomach. That left Genesis as his other barrier: just as he had been for the entirety of his SOLDIER career, Genesis was fussy in the most snobbish way possible. It made Sephiroth wonder if Genesis had, indeed, been sent as his keeper or as a true test of Sephiroth’s patience.

Sephiroth, as a child, never got an answer as to what the man with the boat did with the goods once they got across the river. In the present, Sephiroth wondered if it would have been prudent to drown the Chocobo. He certainly wanted to drop Genesis in a river after his third complaint about “cheap coffee.”

At least the cheap coffee was a form of mild torture he could inflict on Genesis whenever he wanted the caffeine fix.

 

“Genesis, wake up.” Sephiroth put a hand on the man’s leg and gently shook him. Years of getting slapped by a cranky Genesis had taught him to keep out of reach. Genesis was considerably less coordinated with his legs before his morning fix.

“Mrph.”

“Dignified. Look, Cloud’s out on delivery, so I’m taking Zack with me to 7th Heaven.”

Genesis lifted his head and pushed static-laced auburn out of his eye. “Are you wearing a child sling?”

Sephiroth looked down to the cloth wraps around his chest and waist and the sleeping boy tucked in them. “It’s good for bonding.”

“For _infants,_ Sephiroth.” Genesis grunted and rolled onto his back. He even accepted the awful coffee with a mumbled “thanks” before he continued with his criticism. “Are you even reading the right books?”

“I _asked_ the librarian for what they had on new parents.” Sephiroth sat heavily in the space that Genesis’ legs had occupied and made sure Zack was undisturbed. The boy slept with only a little furrow in his brow before relaxing again.

Genesis picked up one of the magazines Sephiroth had left on the coffee table. “Yes, and a subscription to Midgar Mom Monthly.” He thumbed through to an article. “So, are you and Cloud breastfeeding or going with formula?” he asked before Sephiroth snatched the magazine from his hands.

“There’s an article on adoption in there,” Sephiroth protested, his voice quiet. Zack snuffled and repositioned himself against Sephiroth’s chest, and then resumed drooling on hi tee shirt. “Specifically on how to bond with a child.”

“Bet you five Gil it’s about infants.”

Sephiroth snorted and looked away. “…It is, but Zack’s not _that_ old…”

“But he _is_ strapped to your chest like a bomb. Not really a fashion statement, Sephiroth.” Genesis took a sip of his coffee and cringed. “Or is it more of a mating call?

Sephiroth felt his face burn pink and he looked away. “You pretend you’re so sophisticated, when you’re more crude than any grunt I’ve ever run into.”

Genesis smirked and offered up a smug chuckle. Sephiroth had played right into his hand with his reaction, but it did not matter. Not in the long run. He was taking care of Zack _with_ Cloud – his feelings toward Cloud were not a factor.

“Sephiroth, if there’s anything you’re good at, it’s having a poker face. Except when it comes to matters of the heart. You have little tells, and now that you no longer have Hojo or Jenova to hide your emotions from, you’re even more obvious.”

Standing up once more, Sephiroth pulled away from Genesis. “You were never good at reading _me,_ Genesis. You only think you knew what went on,” he hissed quietly. “I’m going to work. If Cloud calls, redirect him to 7 th Heaven and let him know I have Zack.”

As he stopped by the door and picked up the small duffle he’d filled with things meant for Zack’s care, Genesis chortled behind him, “How long can you play miserable housewife when your dear Cloud has taken up a new lover?”

It took all of Sephiroth’s waning self-control to keep from slamming the door behind him on the way out.

 

Once he had arrived at 7th Heaven, Zack was halfway between asleep and awake with all the jostling from being carried across the town. When Sephiroth got inside, he immediately went upstairs and tucked Zack and his stuffed Chocobo under a blanket on Tifa’s couch, where Zack relaxed again and went back to his dreams. Sephiroth lingered a moment, kneeling beside the couch, and brushed the bangs from Zack’s face, transfixed for a moment on the precious life before him.

All his training and education had gone into making sure that Sephiroth could easily be the most lethal, the most dangerous man on any battlefield – truly, he was a one-man army in his own right. Not a drop of knowledge or moment of talk had prepared him to give care to someone so fragile compared to even ordinary humans. Children were both resilient and delicate, and as often as he thought he would be terrible around them, this particular one fascinated him. Perhaps because he was a reincarnate of Zack Fair, or because the boy had come to trust him almost immediately – Sephiroth was not sure of which – but he promised he would take care of _this one_.

Once Zack was tucked in and safe, Sephiroth plugged in the baby monitor he had purchased and left it nearby so he could listen for Zack to wake up while he worked downstairs. The wireless receiver was clipped to his belt, Sephiroth ensured Zack’s stuffed Chocobo was nearby – but not _too_ close – and went back down to meet Tifa.

 

At the end of the day shift, Sephiroth counted his tips while Zack sat at the bar with a coloring book and a box of crayons. During the day, Zack had been brought down during the lunch rush and had kept mostly to his coloring or his toys, but Sephiroth had noticed many other patrons who spotted the cute little boy sitting all by himself. Somewhere during the day, the rote pleasantries that came with being part-waiter-part-busboy turned to questions and genuine conversations about Zack. Sephiroth discovered himself at the receiving end of many sympathetic smiles and comforting pats of his wrist, and in counting his tips, noticed the large leap in his usual take.

Among the bills was a fifty folded around a note scrawled on a napkin.

 _“I remember it being hard, raising my daughter alone when my wife passed away. Take care of each other.”_ The note was a new one – sometimes he got a hopeful person’s number, which he never kept – but some single parent had gone out of their way to pass him extra money and a message.

Tifa startled him out of his third reread as she came up and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Did you want me to make something for Zack’s dinner before the barflies show up or what?” After he turned and just stared at her, and she gave him back a confused look, Sephiroth handed her the note.

“Aww, Sephiroth, you’re giving off ‘dad’ vibes,” she teased. “Though, I’ve gotta say, you even had me fooled for a bi—Sephiroth?”

Sephiroth had gone to the end of the counter where Zack sat with his coloring book and a cup of juice. He folded his arms and leaned on the counter, in front of Zack. “Am I a parent, or just a caretaker?” he murmured. Zack smiled at him and handed over the crayon he had in his hand, offering Sephiroth a chance to color. Sephiroth took the crayon and just tapped it against the book until Zack reached over to “show him” how to color, moving Sephiroth’s hand over the page.

Tifa sidled up beside Sephiroth and leaned onto his back. “I don’t know what you might be thinking, but you look kind of like a parent to me. Hell, you’ve got Cloud worried you’re going to hit Helicopter any day now.”

Casting a look over his shoulder, Sephiroth frowned at Tifa. “What in Gaea’ name does that mean?”

“Helicopter parents… you know… _they hover._ Don’t let the kids do anything without a watchful eye.” Tifa held a hand up before he could protest. “Not just keeping the kid safe, but devoting every waking moment of the kid’s life to _something,_ and not letting him just be a kid.”

Sephiroth snorted. “I would be no better than the science department, if I allowed myself to go that far.” Zack “helped” him color in an apple shape with the blue crayon he was holding. “What made Cloud worry?”

“He said you came home with ten books and three magazines. You know what happened the last time you read so much in a single sitting.”

It was hard to avoid rolling his eyes, so instead Sephiroth chuckled. “I am pacing myself. So far, I’ve found that much of what I checked out to be about infants, which Genesis is quick to remind me that Zack has surpassed. Unfortunately, that means I don’t have any filthy diapers to fling at him when he gets mouthy.”

Tifa started to laugh and leaned on the counter beside Sephiroth. “Hey, there’s still babies out there. I’m sure you can find a supplier.”

“As much as I’d like to stoop to his level and turn to literal sh—crap flinging, I’d like to think I am above petty revenge,” Sephiroth replied. “I’m not, though. I keep making his coffee with old grounds.”

Tifa started to crack up and slapped Sephiroth’s shoulder. “You’ve learned well. Come on, lemme buy you a sandwich before the winos come in and you’re too busy to eat. Denzel will be home soon.”

Sephiroth nodded and moved around the bar to scoop Zack up. “Come on, sweetheart, time for dinner,” he murmured.

Tifa paused in picking up Zack’s things. “What did you call him?”

“What?” Sephiroth frowned and looked down at Zack. Zack just squirmed and latched his arms around Sephiroth’s neck.

“You called him ‘sweetheart,’” said Tifa.

“I did?”

“Yeah.”

Sephiroth frowned again. “Well, he does consume an inordinate amount of processed sugar, much to my dismay.”

Tifa chuckled. “No, he’s growing on you, like a cute little fungus.”

“A fungus?” Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. “He’s more like bacteria. Aren’t you?”

Zack replied “mmm” and gestured toward his mouth.

“Yes, time to feed the bacteria,” said Sephiroth. “Maybe I’ll feed you to the dog.”

“Sephiroth, that’s not nice!” laughed Tifa.

 

Sephiroth could not help but notice Tifa smiling at him all night afterward. It had been a little unnerving, and even when he called her on it, her story that she was just “looking at Elena” was transparent. He did not understand. Taking care of Zack was the right thing to do. Of course, he cared about the child – no one seemed to recall that he _had_ been something of a friend to Zack Fair in his previous life.

No, that was not correct. Fair had been _his_ friend, but Sephiroth had not been much of one in return. Fair had cared about what happened to Angeal, and even a little bit about Genesis, if only to get him to stop, and that brought them together. After Angeal had passed, the gap had grown wider, not closer, even if Fair insisted on calling himself Sephiroth’s friend up until the very end.

Now he had _this_ Zack, a little boy who spoke with his hands and whose best friend was (still) a Chocobo. A reincarnated spirit that reminded Sephiroth so much of the previous version but in so many ways was he already different. Someone fragile and soft who depended on him and Cloud to keep him safe and warm and—

 _Stop it, Sephiroth. Genesis will sense your melancholy before you’re even in the door and go for the jugular,_ Sephiroth thought to himself. He and Zack were walking home, almost hand-in-hand. The height disparity led to Sephiroth creating a game where they both held onto Zack’s stuffed Chocobo, to “see who could do it the longest.” Zack always won when Sephiroth had to open the front door.

As they walked, Sephiroth stole glances down at Zack, who trudged along happily in a pair of rain boots and a bright blue coat and his ears – a hat with long rabbit-like ears that doubled as a scarf. Zack looked back up at him and tugged on the Chocobo to see if he would let go early, then giggled when Sephiroth pulled it back gently.

 

Once they were back to the apartment block, Sephiroth spotted Fenrir parked in its spot and felt relief. For one thing, he would not have to take care of Zack alone and deal with Genesis at the same time. For another, Zack would be more than happy to see Cloud returned.

What he had not expected, when they got outside the apartment, was to hear Kunsel’s voice through the door. His face fell, and Zack, now carried on his hip, poked at his cheek to ask him what was wrong.

“Nothing, Zack. Cloud’s home.”

Sephiroth opened the door and put Zack on his feet. Upon seeing Zack come through the door, Cloud sat forward on the couch and opened his arms. Zack took off like a shot and launched himself into a hug from Cloud, and then another from Kunsel. Genesis protested that he got nothing, to which Zack responded with a stuck-out tongue.

Sephiroth watched everyone greet Zack and even him with a familiar feeling in his stomach. It had presented itself weeks ago when he promised himself that he would make his _own_ family, with his _own_ people. So far, he had Genesis keeping an eye on him, and some sort of joint custody with Cloud over Zack’s heart.

“Since you’re home, Cloud, I think I’m going to take a shower. I trust you’ll have no problems putting Zack to bed?” asked Sephiroth. He felt himself talking, but it hardly seemed like his own voice. Without waiting for a response, Sephiroth went to his room and shut the door behind him.

Barely a minute passed and Genesis was at the door, knocking softly and asking to be let in. Sephiroth stepped back and opened the door just a crack, but Genesis barged in anyway. Sephiroth sank onto his bed without the energy to fight his intrusion.

“So, what was that?” Genesis demanded.

Sephiroth looked up at Genesis and sighed. His eyes stung and he was weary from a day’s work. Some other form of exhaustion had set into his shoulders as well, but he had not felt it until he got home. “What was what?” he asked.

“That. Out there. You barely said ‘hello’ before you ran away. That isn’t like you. I have seen you other nights… oh, wait…” Genesis had begun to pace Sephiroth’s room and stopped to point at him. “It’s Kunsel, isn’t it? Any other night, you would be out there to take care of Zack _with_ Cloud, but add the fifth wheel and suddenly, you’re too tired to socialize?”

“Genesis, I have had a long day…”

“Which is…” Genesis cleared his throat. “Partially, my fault.”

Sephiroth stopped in taking off his shirt and stared at him. “You’re admitting to being wrong? It’s a good thing Kunsel is a journalist, because the papers should hear about this.”

Genesis waved him off. “Very funny. Actually, no, I am not _wrong,_ per se. I still think you are being the doting homemaker in this situation while Cloud is the philandering husband out there, being so bold as to bring his mistress in to wave in your face.”

“Genesis, your metaphors have reached a new high in complication,” groaned Sephiroth. He fell back across his bed and covered his face. “Would you be so kind as to shut the hell up?” He grunted when he felt Genesis sit on the bed and then drape himself beside Sephiroth as if he had the right to be wherever he pleased.

“My dear Sephiroth… you won’t even allow yourself jealousy. Cloud doesn’t know what he means to you, does he?”

Sephiroth eyed Genesis beside him from between his fingers. “And what,” he asked as he moved his hands away, “Does Cloud mean to me?”

“The world, of course.” Genesis propped his head up on his hand. “Well, half of it, now that you’ve conceived a child together.”

“We didn’t-“

“Shh, don’t interrupt.” Genesis pressed a finger to Sephiroth’s lips. “It’s become obvious to me that you’d do anything to make Cloud happy, including make yourself miserable so he’s not pressured into being your _raison d’etre._ Why do you do that to yourself? Do you truly enjoy your own misery?”

Sephiroth moved Genesis’ hand away from his face. “It’s something I’ve done before. I can want someone else to be happy, and I have already made Cloud’s life a living hell once. He doesn’t _need_ me.”

“You need him.”

There was a pause before Sephiroth replied, “In a way, yes. But I can be content. Kunsel’s a good man. A better fit for Cloud.”

Genesis licked his lips and sat up so he was propped on his elbow. “You said you’ve done this before. Torture yourself instead of going for what you want. When was that? How did I not know?”

Sephiroth sat up, then got up off his bed and crossed to his dresser. “You were never meant to. You and Angeal were happy. I was happy for you. That was enough.” Sephiroth felt arms around his waist and a head resting on his back, between his shoulders.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. Angeal was my friend, too.”

Genesis sniffed and swayed, moving Sephiroth with him. “You fool, we could have invited you to join-“

“No, it wouldn’t have worked. You two had history. I didn’t fit into that.”

“Bullshit, Sephiroth. We could have--”

Sephiroth pushed Genesis’ arms down and turned around. “You wanted to be my rival, so I let you. I enjoyed everything we _all_ did together. It tore me apart that I hurt you because I went too far. And when you called me-mmph.”

Genesis had stretched up suddenly and kissed him. For a brief moment, Sephiroth let Genesis linger before pushing him back down to his feet. Genesis’ face was blotchy red and pink and his eyes were wet. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Sephiroth took a couple of slow breaths to calm his heart down. As much as he craved the touch and as much as he might, once upon a time, have been overjoyed to have Genesis kiss him - it was far too late for that. He had moved on, in anger, to other things.

“So am I,” replied Sephiroth. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really do need a shower.”

 

When Sephiroth had gotten out of the shower, Kunsel and Cloud were out in the hallway, saying goodbye to one another. He could hear murmured conversation and the occasional smack of lips to understand that they would be “saying goodbye” for at least twenty minutes.

As he sat on the couch, damp, his mood still low, Genesis shocked him by cuddling up beside him, looping his arms around Sephiroth’s right. He started to pull away, but Genesis shook his head and held on tighter.

“What are you doing?” Sephiroth whispered. He wanted to avoid shouting, as Cloud’s bedroom door was cracked open, and that was where Zack slept. The last thing he needed was to be blamed for Zack being woken up because of his shouting.

“Trying to make you feel better?” offered Genesis.

Sephiroth balked and pulled his arm free. “I don’t need to be coddled.” He got up and went to the kitchen for a bottle of water.

Genesis slunk up behind him. “You’d be more accepting if I was Cloud.”

“Because Cloud wouldn’t be up to something if he offered me a hug,” Sephiroth said, more to the fridge since he was hesitant to turn around.

Genesis leaned on the counter beside Sephiroth and folded his arms over his chest. “I’m offended that you think I’d be up to-“

“You’re always up to something. The problem is, I don’t know what or why. Only that you wouldn’t have kissed me if you weren’t,” Sephiroth accused. “Just… whatever it is, don’t involve Zack. He’s just a child. It was hard enough explaining that we couldn’t bring Angeal here.”

“Very well. Whatever you think I may be up to, I will keep little Fair out of,” Genesis promised.

“And stop referring to him as ‘Fair.’ I think Cloud’s going to adopt him, so he’ll be ‘Little Strife’ if anything,” corrected Sephiroth. He took his bottle of water and walked away from Genesis to sit on the couch again. Genesis followed dutifully and made sure to press against Sephiroth’s side. “Not to mention you’re making it harder for us to get him to recognize ‘Zack’ as his name.”

Genesis rested his head on Sephiroth’s shoulder. “Whatever you desire,” he replied.

Sephiroth rolled his eyes and sipped at his water bottle with the arm Genesis had spared from his clinging. Cloud returned to the apartment shortly after, his face flushed and a pleasant smile on his face – for a moment. He looked at Sephiroth, then Genesis, then Sephiroth again, this time with an eyebrow raised.

“Did I miss something?” asked Cloud.

Genesis spoke before Sephiroth could come up with a snarky response about him. “Of course not. We don’t do anything unsavory while there’s voyeurs about.” To emphasize whatever his point was, Genesis snaked a hand across Sephiroth’s bare chest and up around his neck.

Both of Cloud’s eyebrows went up with his surprise, then came down to match the unhappy look on the rest of his face. “I see. Well, don’t let me interrupt…” he said, turning on his heel toward his bedroom.

Sephiroth sighed and rubbed at his forehead. “Genesis, let go of me,” he said, as Cloud’s door shut behind him. “If you’re trying to make Cloud jealous, you’re going to have to invest in a motorcycle, not paw me like a drunk.”

Pulling his arms away, Genesis sat back on the couch, hands on his hips. “I thought you were enjoying it.”

“Just because I didn’t shove you to the floor, doesn’t mean I enjoyed it.” Sephiroth finished his water and stood up again. “You have to remember that not everyone is as petty as you are.” Sephiroth tossed his bottle into their recycling bin and headed toward his own room again. “Don’t try that again. Goodnight.”

Genesis waved Sephiroth away and muttered “goodnight” just as Sephiroth closed his bedroom door.

 

Seated on his bed, Sephiroth wondered what Cloud must have thought, seeing Genesis clasp to him like that. Even though he tried to be as blasé as possible with it, Cloud had still seemed… offended.

 _I’m going to lose sleep thinking about this…_ he said to himself as he laid down on his bed.

Just as he closed his eyes, Sephiroth touched his fingers to his lips and briefly relived the moment Genesis had kissed him.

_Why?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, even though I constantly slap you all with the feels. 
> 
> Love you guys! <3


	16. Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genesis and Cloud at home.

The next day was Sephiroth’s day off, and Cloud had already gone on a run between Edge and Kalm when he returned in the mid-afternoon to a surprisingly quiet apartment. He hung up his goggles, shrugged out of his biking jacket, and left them on the pegs by the door.

However, Cloud was not alone. Much to his dismay, Genesis was still in the apartment, left behind for whatever good reason that Sephiroth had. Genesis popped up over the back of the couch like a jack-in-the-box with a stylist and seemed to be waiting for him.

“Hello, Genesis. Have fun sleeping on my couch and raiding my fridge all day?” asked Cloud as he went to the kitchen.

“I didn’t raid the fridge. I’ve only been in your cabinets. You have a terrible taste in cereal.”

Cloud picked up the _empty_ cereal box from inside the garbage can and glared at him. “Doesn’t stop you from eating it, I see.”

“Well, if you added the things I requested to your shopping list…,” pouted Genesis.

“I can’t afford the things you requested,” Cloud snapped, as he chucked the box back into the can and let it snap shut. “Wutain style sushi isn’t cheap on this continent.”

Genesis snorted. “I know very well you can afford more than what you tell Sephiroth, but that’s not the thing I’m interested in. I’m curious as to why you hang onto Kunsel with such desperation.”

Cloud’s spine stiffened and he reached for his sword, but he had left First Tsurugi and all its components on Fenrir to keep them out of the apartment since Zack had become too curious about them. He turned around slowly and sized Genesis up, certain he could muster the strength to beat the tar out of him if necessary.

“It’s not desperation. He’s a good man. Fairly relaxed about the whole ‘I’m sharing an apartment with my former nemesis and that nemesis’ frenemy’ thing. Especially since you’re both supposed to be dead,” replied Cloud. He rolled out his shoulders and cracked his neck. “Were you going to get to a point or can I get something to eat while you blather an exposition?”

Genesis looked properly offended and got up from the couch. “My point is that you cling to Kunsel, but you’re still possessive over Sephiroth. I saw that look.”

Cloud shifted uncomfortably, turned around to his fridge, and opened it to dig around inside. Mostly so that he did not have to see that smug expression on Genesis’ face. “What look? The one I get every time I see you’re still here?”

“The one that says ‘That’s mine’ like a selfish little boy who doesn’t like sharing his toys.” Genesis’ voice was right behind him. Cloud discovered just how close when he bumped his elbow into Genesis’ side as he turned around and nearly lost his container of leftovers.

Cloud scowled and put his dish on the counter, and then pushed Genesis back – _gently_ – with his hands on Genesis’ chest. “Sephiroth doesn’t seem to like you hanging on him like a cheap suit. I think he only puts up with you because of his loyalty to the memories of you and Angeal.”

Genesis tilted his head down and smiled from under his bangs. “It’s not merely loyalty, Cloud. He confessed to me that _I_ was the subject of his heart… As I tasted against his lips last night. It turns out desperation really is bittersweet.”

“Are you saying you kissed him?” Cloud demanded. His whole body was tense and he felt his heartbeat speed up. Genesis was trying to provoke him, but why? “Because… he’s free to do as he likes. I’m his friend, not his owner.”

Genesis leaned into Cloud’s space, cornering him near the kitchen sink. “No, merely his domesticator. You’ve turned a proud, capable warrior into your personal pet… and you don’t even have the good graces to admit that you’ve broken him completely.” Genesis put his hands on either side of Cloud on the countertop. Cloud could smell whatever it was that seeped from his skin and gave him a permanent odor like apples and it made him gag in his throat. “Even if your desire for Kunsel was only about sex… one has to wonder why you would not pluck the low-hanging fruit being offered to you.”

Cloud had a hard time looking at Genesis or even listening after he insinuated that Cloud had somehow _broken_ Sephiroth. Some part of him, cold, cruel and mostly silent enjoyed the idea, a small victory rewarded to his anger for Sephiroth ruining everything that Cloud had once loved. But this _was_ Genesis making the accusations. He could not really believe him. “I didn’t hurt him,” Cloud breathed, his chest tight and voice hoarse. “I’m trying to help him.” He shoved at Genesis and got out from the corner, feeling some of the knots loosen.

“Then, you disagree that he’s different? He softens himself for you, blunts his edges. He cares for the child while you’re away so you needn’t worry. He makes you fresh meals so you’re not consuming those boxed things you call food in the freezer.” Genesis followed right behind Cloud. “Are you even grateful to your servant for all he does?”

Genesis did not even have a moment to catch his breath after Cloud’s elbow hit his diaphragm. As soon as he doubled over, Cloud snatched Genesis by the collar of his shirt and jerked him forward enough to get him off balance and pushed back so Genesis’ knees buckled under him, putting him at Cloud’s level.

“Sephiroth isn’t my _slave._ Anything he does is his own choice,” Cloud snarled.

Genesis smiled, despite the fact that he could hardly breathe and in a compromising position. “He chose you.”

“I know that.” Cloud dropped Genesis hard onto his knees, but the man did not seem to know when to shut up.

_“Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul. Pride is lost. Wings stripped away, the end is nigh.”_

“What does that shit even mean?”

Genesis sat back on his heels and looked up at Cloud from where he had been dropped. “It means what you think it means. Sephiroth looks to a future he may never have, but still chooses that path, at the cost of much of who he is. For _you._ ” Genesis got to his feet and straightened out his sweater. “And you’re an unworthy ingrate.”

Cloud glared at Genesis, ready to deck him in his smug face, but his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. His appetite from the road had eroded to nothing. _Am I taking advantage of him?_ Cloud caught himself thinking. _I’m not… using him…_ If he was, he could have done as Genesis suggested and bedded Sephiroth easily if that were the case. But… always a “but.”

“He’d say somethi-“

“No he wouldn’t,” Genesis interrupted. “It took him… I don’t even know how long to confess his unrequited desire for _me_. He could have said something at any point, even after Angeal’s death.” Genesis gave Cloud a moment and continued when Cloud did not respond. “It might have changed the events in Nibelheim, if I hadn’t shattered his heart.”

Cloud felt like his legs had merged with the floor. His stomach was a hard knot now. “You think he wants me to put him back together?”

“Look at it this way… is Sephiroth a man or a monolith? A name or a person?” Genesis asked, his voice soft and his eyebrows furrowed. “Can you put someone back together that was made from other people’s expectations?” Cloud looked up and studied Genesis’ eyes carefully, looking out for some sort of deception with his sudden concern. “He chose you… because he can attach himself to you. You’re stable.”

A loud guffaw and a snort came out of Cloud as he walked away from Genesis, toward his room. “I’m not any more fucking stable than he is. I’m just better at hiding my scars,” Cloud replied. “But, if you’re really that worried about him, maybe we’ll have another talk.” Cloud stepped into his room and shut the door without bothering to look back at Genesis for his input.

 

Cloud passed time after the _discussion_ with Genesis in his room, occupied with the arrangement of his closet. Zack, being the curious little beastie he was, had a tendency to get into Cloud’s boots and pull out the laces. He also greatly enjoyed nibbling on the aglets and Cloud had to wonder where in Gaea’s name he got the habit and _why_. Especially since Zack only seemed to go after the ones in his closet and not those left in by the door. After his boots had been secured on a higher shelf, Cloud pulled out everything he owned and arranged them by color, arranged those piles by season, then hung up everything according to what season was coming – winter.

Once he was done with that, Cloud sat on his bed. Then he laid on it. Then he knelt beside it. Then he got to his feet, made his bed, made the small bed Zack slept in, and then he sat on his own bed again. His left leg bounced up and down and he clasped his hands so tightly together, his fingertips began to tingle.

Cloud should have realized what a startling picture he would make when Sephiroth came home with Zack. As soon as he heard the front door opening and Sephiroth’s quiet murmurs in the hall, Cloud sprang up with a hard thud of his feet and nearly tore the door off its hinges as he exited.

“Hey. You’re back,” said Cloud, walking with all the grace of an early-stage Cait Sith – rigid and mechanical.

Sephiroth lowered Zack to the floor and unwound the long fabric strip for his child sling. “As are you. I take it the Grasslands are clearing out with the approaching weather?” he asked as he gave Cloud a once-over glance.

“Yeah, it was… _calm_.”

Sephiroth chuckled and lifted a bag he carried with him. “You make that joke every time you come home,” he replied. “Tifa sent you leftovers for dinner.” Just as he paused, Cloud’s stomach gave a snarl in response. “It’s good that I didn’t linger at 7th Heaven then?”

Cloud blushed and loosened his stance as he rubbed his stomach. “I didn’t eat when I got here…” he murmured.

Genesis piped up from his place where he lounged on the couch. “He came back and shut himself in his room.”

“Gen-” began Cloud.

“Shut yourself in your room?” asked Sephiroth, and Cloud frowned at the sheer _concern_ on Sephiroth’s face. “Are you okay?”

Cloud stiffened up for a moment, only to have his attention pulled away when Zack latched himself around Cloud’s leg, looking for his greeting.

“Oh, I’m so sorry…” Cloud knelt down to lift Zack into his arms and pulled the boy close against his chest. “Welcome home, Zack.” He took a deep breath and rubbed Zack’s back, beginning to feel better while he held his son.

The boy replied with a gentle nuzzle of his head and a tight grip around Cloud’s neck. Sephiroth smiled briefly at them before he turned and put away the food Tifa had sent home with them. “Would you mind keeping him distracted while I draw a bath for him? I’m afraid he enjoys A-dog’s company a little too much and Angeal obliges him.”

“I always said Fair was a puppy,” muttered Genesis.

“I wish we could bathe him like a puppy,” chuckled Sephiroth. “It would be easier to take him outside and hose him off than have to empty the sink whenever we want him clean.”

Cloud snorted and hefted Zack up further in his grip to take off his rain boots one-handed. “We’ll get a better apartment… one with a tub.”

Sephiroth went into the kitchenette and started to move dishes and rinse the sink down so Zack would not smell like old food. “Or lean on Tifa for bathtub privileges. Next visit, I bring him a change of clothing and his bath soap.”

Genesis rolled over on the couch so his head and arms were pillowed across the back so he could watch the two of them give Zack a bath. “Miss Lockhart will catch on fairly quickly, you _using_ her for the convenience of homeownership,” he said, giving Cloud a sharp look.

Cloud sat Zack on the counter top, got his shirt off him, and set it aside with his socks. He knew the look from Genesis meant to bring up the subject they had discussed earlier, but Cloud was reluctant to discuss it in front of Zack. “We’ll find a place,” he promised.

Sephiroth took Zack from Cloud and carefully sat Zack in the warm water he had drawn. “Someplace still close to Edge, I presume,” he said as he washed Zack’s face.

“Why do you say that?” asked Cloud, as he looked up to Sephiroth. He kept close to help keep an eye on Zack – even at the sink’s height, Zack had a tendency to try to squirm free, and all the super strength in the world did not compare to a wily, slippery toddler.

“You’ll want to be near Kunsel,” said Sephiroth. His eyes were on Zack, but Sephiroth’s voice dropped to a softer murmur at the end. “It’ll be easier on the two of you,” he added.

Genesis made an exaggerated cough from the couch and Cloud glared at him.

“And you,” Cloud added. “You’ll still need to be near 7th Hea-“

“Actually, that’s something I’d like to discuss,” interrupted Sephiroth. “Once Zack is in bed.” He massaged baby shampoo over Zack’s scalp with gentle care; Cloud filled a cup with warm water and helped Sephiroth rinse Zack’s hair. Zack spluttered and wiped at his face when excess ran over Sephiroth’s fingers, making them both chuckle in sympathy.

 

It did not take the three of them very long to get Zack into bed after his bath was finished. Cloud put him in his pajamas and of all people, Zack gestured to Genesis when asked whom he wanted his bedtime story from. It was the first time Cloud saw Genesis actually look  _humbled_ by something.

“It’s because you turn story time into a production,” muttered Sephiroth.

“And you do all the voices,” Cloud teased.

Genesis snatched the storybook away from Cloud and settled on the floor beside Zack’s bed, legs folded elegantly under him. “May I be remembered for my ability to entertain a child better than the Great Sephiroth.”

 

As they slipped from Cloud’s bedroom and toward the living room, the door just ajar so they could hear if Genesis needed assistance getting Zack to sleep, Cloud wrapped his arms around Sephiroth’s waist and pressed his face into the space between his shoulder blades. Sephiroth stiffened up at first, then dropped his hands to the top of Cloud’s arms.

“Long day?” he guessed.

“Mmph.” Cloud squeezed Sephiroth’s waist a little harder, having no desire to face him. “Genesis and I were talking…”

“Never a good thing.”

“Do you feel like I’m using you?”

Sephiroth attempted to turn around, but Cloud just moved with him, face stuck to his back. “Cl-… Cloud, using me? I chose to be here.”

“I know that.”

Cloud could feel Sephiroth’s sigh through his ribcage. “It would be nice if you were here more often, for Zack, but I understand your delivery job…” Sephiroth began.

“I don’t really need the money,” Cloud interrupted. “I just-“

“You can’t be cooped up forever.”

Cloud loosened his grip on Sephiroth and the man finally turned around. Cloud’s face was warm, and he realized he must have looked miserable; Sephiroth touched his cheek with his strong fingers of his, still cool from handling the bathwater.

“I admit, I’ve had to turn to Tifa for advice about you more than once. She helped me understand your need for mobility.” Sephiroth ran his thumb over Cloud’s cheek. “Especially when confronted with things you can’t handle.”

“I should feel betrayed that she talks about me with you, but I’m kind of relieved.” Cloud lifted his hand and covered Sephiroth’s. He pressed the fingers against his face for a moment, then pulled them off. “But, what about you? Do you feel… stuck, here? You’re taking real good care of Zack, but… I wonder if you resent me for it, too.”

Sephiroth raised a brow and pulled his hand back. “I don’t resent you. I chose this.”

Cloud grumbled in his throat and pulled on his bangs. “I wish you’d stop saying that. I’m not anyone worth choosing.”

Sephiroth folded his arms over his chest and raised a brow. “I’m sure Kunsel – and many others, me included – would heartily disagree, but I’d love to hear your argument.”

Cloud huffed and moved to sit on the couch. Sephiroth followed him, a literal cushion of space between them as he sat. “I’m not here a lot. And I should be. I want to help with Zack, but…”

“I’m here,” said Sephiroth, in plainspoken words, as fact, not as solace. “I’m the source of your… discomfort.”

“Sephir-“

“No, I understand. Some things are just… difficult to live with. I’m still the man who burned your village, who killed Aerith… I’m not an easy person to forgive. Your patience with me has been outstanding.”

“ _Seph-“_

Sephiroth raised a hand to stop him. “These are facts. Not many would take in an enemy to rehabilitate him, let alone… well, what I thought I was choosing.”

Cloud’s head dropped and he rubbed at his face. “But, we’re… what are we?”

Sephiroth lowered his defensive arms and settled his hands on his knees. “Friends.”

“Even if… you…?”

“You’re not the first person I-“

“No, I know.” Cloud cleared his throat and reached across the couch. “Genesis told me.”

Sephiroth’s smirk was short lived on his lips. “I knew he would.” He reached over and clasped Cloud’s hand, but kept his gaze forward.

Quiet exploded between them a moment later, as minutes ticked by in the thunderous silence, only ending when Genesis’ voice floated softly from the cracked door. A muffled giggle followed, and then the reading trickled off into incoherent murmurs.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” asked Cloud, once the stillness had passed.

Sephiroth shifted so he was a little closer to Cloud. “Vincent and Cid are leaving Edge soon. Highwind’s climbing the walls, being grounded for so long. I caught Tifa breaking her dishwasher so it would give him something to repair.”

Cloud snorted and nodded his head. “Cid’s never happy staying on the ground for long.”

“I’m certain Vincent has been instrumental in keeping him sane for longer,” Sephiroth replied. “He and I were talking about… my mother. Tuesti had a DVD delivered to Vincent this morning… Hojo’s video files on his work with the Reunion Project and his part in… my creation.”

Cloud squeezed Sephiroth’s hand more firmly. “I’m so sorr-“

“Vincent _is_ my father.” Sephiroth cleared his throat. “More correctly, ‘Subject V’ is my father, due to his ‘adequate sample size and superior DNA.’ Vincent assumes this means his… monstrous forms.”

Cloud’s eyebrows raised on his face. “You did, kind of… you know… have some mutations at the end, there… Chaos would explain it.”

Sephiroth nodded. “A DNA test would prove the most accurate results, but Hojo would have no reason to lie to himself. It was a record never meant to be seen by anyone else, not for a long time, I presume.” He looked to Cloud and readjusted his grip so he held Cloud’s hand in both of his own. “So, I have decided I would like to meet my real mother.”

Cloud felt his mouth drop open before he started to say something. “I… wow… that’s a big step. You want… you know, moral support?”

Sephiroth took a deep breath and shook his head. “I don’t… well, I don’t want to meet her with you. You’ve seen me sob – pathetically – enough. And picked me up each time. I need to do this…” Sephiroth paused. “I need to do this alone. So I will take a hiatus from 7th Heaven and join Vincent and Highwind on the _Shera_ in a few days.”

“You know Genesis won’t let you go anywhere by yourself,” replied Cloud.

“No, I know. But… Vincent has told me where to find her. I don’t doubt he would follow me as well. Confronting her, however… I have to do that myself.”

Cloud moved himself to sit a little closer to Sephiroth. He could hear the sounds of story time winding down to a soft murmur – surely Zack was nodding off. They did not need to wake him up all over again. “I’m proud of you for making this decision.”

Sephiroth’s eyes widened and he smiled. It was a rare expression, not simply made with just his lips in an attempt to be polite, but with a flash of teeth and a dip of his head. His face was pink as he looked away from Cloud. “You are?”

Cloud stood up from the couch with his hand still holding Sephiroth’s. “Yeah, I am. You’re moving forward, and that’s all I asked. C’mon, let’s go say goodnight to Zack before Genesis has him out completely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a Sephiroth playlist to go with this story: http://8tracks.com/urza-b-j/a-better-man
> 
> Thanks all for reading/listening! <3


	17. Travel Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth and Vincent uncover a little history. Travel plans are set. Cloud has a beach house. An old friend makes his appearance.

The first time Sephiroth had watched the video Reeve had sent to 7Th Heaven, he was seated on Tifa’s couch with Vincent. Tifa and Cid had taken over playing with Zack to distract him while they learned the truth. The second would come later, at his apartment, Cloud and Genesis with him.

The girl who had delivered the DVD, named Shelke, informed them that she had cut irrelevant information and video files – many clips that had been a journal of days past, numerous tests of Jenova cells before they got to the stages tied to possibly using them for reproduction. However, she did inform them both that the entirety of the information on the diskette Vincent had recovered was now archived at the WRO HQ and was available to both of them for perusal if they so desired it.

“Thank you, Shelke,” Vincent had said.

An early clip of Hojo made Sephiroth rethink his memories of him. Hojo, much younger than the man he had known, seemed more lucid than and not nearly as obsessive as Sephiroth remembered. Still, he seemed to have always retained an irritation with the so-called rivalry he had with a young Hollander.

_“Shit! The specimen’s on the floor! A whole month’s worth of work is ruined, you idiot!”_ Hojo shouted into the background of an early clip. Hollander had snuck up on Hojo during one of his recordings of a test and startled him; Hojo had dropped the sample dish on the floor instead of placing it under a microscope and the glass had shattered off screen. Hollander had taken off like he was being shot at, leaving Hojo to clean his mess.

In his attempt to clean it up, they could hear Hojo hiss in pain as a piece of broken glass sliced his hand. They had a grainy glimpse of blood and a softly snarled _“Fuck… I may be contaminated now…”_ just before he stopped the recording. The video moved onto another date, a later period where Hojo did not seem to have slept for days. His hair was greasy and his eyes were bloodshot with bruise-purple bags under them. Much closer to the Hojo Sephiroth remembered.

“Contamination…” murmured Vincent. “It could explain his fixation with the Reunion theory.”

“What do you mean?” Sephiroth had asked. He had a feeling of what Vincent might say, but hearing it from him was just an affirmation of what he had begun to suspect.

“Infection from Jenova could have caused him to lose control. But he wasn’t the person Jenova needed to continue its directive.”

“Jenova used Hojo to create me. A …perfect host,” said Sephiroth. “A tailor-made vessel to consume and destroy the Planet.”

Vincent bowed his head slightly. “Two thousand years confinement doesn’t mean it couldn’t learn about the Planet and how it worked. A quasi-immortal being like that has the patience to wait for the world to catch up to its plans… though it obviously doesn’t like defiance.”

Sephiroth frowned at the notion. He never really enjoyed failures or mistakes, and coming to terms with his past actions had taken its toll on him. Nevertheless, he had not thought of his inability to defeat Cloud in Jenova’s name as some act of _defiance._ Sephiroth had seen his giving into her as a failure of his own will, and the continued rage he had felt as nothing more than a byproduct of a total loss of self-control.

As they continued to watch the video clips, Sephiroth kept glancing at Vincent from the corner of his eye for further explanation, but nothing more came of his cryptic comment.

 

_“Dear, you’re asleep at your desk again…”_

Vincent gasped the first time Lucrecia came on screen, almost an hour and a half into the recording. His voice had been drier than normal when he pointed her out to Sephiroth.

“Your real mother,” Vincent murmured.

“She’s quite lovely,” Sephiroth had replied, his eyes on Vincent’s profile. He had wondered what Lucrecia had meant to him then, what he meant to her now, and how that affected things with Highwind. Those questions he kept to himself as he watched Lucrecia take off her lab coat and drape it over Hojo’s shoulders.

_“No… I need to figure this out…,”_ groaned Hojo on screen.

_“You’ll get it after a rest,”_ replied Lucrecia as she helped Hojo to his feet. _“Between this and the Chaos project, you’re burning yourself out. At least let me help you again…”_

Hojo went still as he stood up, and then lurched away from Lucrecia to scribble something on a notepad at his desk. _“No, your work is with Reunion now--Chaos… Subject V…”_ Hojo turned around again and grabbed Lucrecia’s face. _“That’s it,”_ he said, and gave her a deep kiss. Vincent swallowed hard in his throat and Sephiroth moved to fast forward beyond that part, but Vincent stopped him.

“No. I’m fine. Thank you,” he said.

Sephiroth put down the remote again and let the video play. Another hour of footage rolled by with Hojo making more charts and calculations, testing specimens and muttering to himself about “Subject V finally being useful.” As much as he expected Vincent to look offended, Sephiroth discovered the man was better at hiding how he felt than even Sephiroth was. Vincent just watched the screen, appearing bored with it.

Until…

_“Finally. After months of trials and failures, losses and watching that lazy bastard Hollander produce those worthless Projects G and A, finally, Subject L has conceived. Subject H’s… genetic contribution was not viable enough, but the mutations present in Subject V were enough to finally create a stable zygote. The Project is yet unnamed, but Gast had found an old manuscript while out with his… **assistant**. I don’t know what kind of cultural relevance it has to the backwater hicks in this Planet-forsaken town, but… **my** assistant found a name she liked. For now… it will be Project S.”_

Sephiroth sat back and stared at the screen as the DVD moved onto other clips involving Lucrecia’s pregnancy. As Lucrecia had grown into her pregnant belly, Hojo had shown the camera progressive shots of ultrasounds – Sephiroth in development. Yet the tone of the clips moved away from an expected tone of endearment to the future birth and into Hojo regarding him as just “Project S,” with Lucrecia being called, to her face, “Subject L.” The depersonalization was not anything new to witness on Hojo’s part, but seeing Lucrecia’s face grow sadder over months made Sephiroth stop the video before it got to his being born.

Vincent took a deep breath and looked at him expectantly. Sephiroth got up and paced Tifa’s living room, feeling agitation swell. He could sense Vincent watching him, and the knowledge just made him stop and stare at Vincent in return.

“Well?” he barked, uncomfortable now.

“She never got to hold you. You were taken from Lucrecia as soon as you were born.”

Sephiroth shifted and rubbed at his face. “Maybe she’d like to, now?”

 

On the _Shera,_ Sephiroth thought over his decision to meet Lucrecia. He had faced down every sort of beast on the Planet. He had learned how to be social with the help of Cloud’s family. He had a little boy who cared about him deeply. Cloud was his friend. Genesis was… alive and present in his life, for better or worse. He knew who his parents were, even if Vincent was less than willing to share much about his past. Knowing he was a former Turk was enough, in Sephiroth’s book. Still, an image of Lucrecia going to Hojo, her hand delicately placed on her swollen belly, begging him to join her in bed… and Hojo telling off “Subject L” for being out of her room during scheduled sleeping hours… haunted Sephiroth’s mind.

How did his mother, his real, human mother, put up with that? Vincent had mentioned extreme guilt she felt for Grimoire Valentine’s death, but Sephiroth could not comprehend that kind of self-flagellation.

_“You stay with Cloud out of no other obligation than because you think you should. You seem to be more like your mother than you knew,”_ Genesis had helpfully reminded him.

Sephiroth sat with his elbows on his knees, his right leg shaking as he focused too hard on a metal floor tile, to the point of his eyes watering. That lack of attention had him jumping out of his skin when someone knocked on his door.

“Sephiroth?” Cloud’s voice came through the door, followed by much softer knocks. “I’m checking,” he murmured.

“C-come in,” Sephiroth said. He looked up and wiped at his strained eyes, which had watered up while he had stopped blinking.

Cloud entered Sephiroth’s guest quarters with Zack in his arms, who tried to knock one more time before the metal door was out of his reach. “You okay?” asked Cloud as he put Zack on his feet. Zack bolted over to Sephiroth, hugged his legs, and looked up to him with wide eyes.

“Yes. I’m just… thinking.” Sephiroth helped Zack climb up into his lap and kissed the top of his head. “I’m not sure if I can actually do this,” he admitted.

Cloud sat beside Sephiroth and put an arm behind his back. “You can tell Vincent you changed your mind. It took him a long time to go back to Lucrecia’s cave after we initially discovered it.”

Sephiroth huffed and shook his head. “Guilt seems to be hereditary. Lucky me.”

“Hey.” Cloud put his head on Sephiroth’s shoulder. “I know guilt. This isn’t guilt, you’re just nervous. This is something you’ve wanted for a long time, and now you’re going to get a real chance to meet her.” He paused and looked up, pushing Sephiroth’s bangs behind his ear. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with? At the very least, I could keep Genesis off your back.”

Sephiroth smiled and shook his head. “No, you need to take care of Zack. And it will give him a chance to bond with Kunsel.” Sephiroth gently nudged the back of his fingers against Zack’s cheek.

Cloud frowned and fiddled with a strand of hair that would not stay tucked back, tickling the side of Sephiroth’s face. “Every time you bring him up, I feel like you’re accusing me of something.”

“Cloud… I’m just saying what’s true. If you’re going to be with Kunsel, Zack should like him as well. Would you be with someone Zack didn’t like?” Sephiroth turned just enough to look Cloud in the eyes. “I told you once before… it doesn’t matter how I fe-“

“Well, how you feel does matter,” interrupted Cloud.

Sephiroth frowned at him until Cloud waved his hand for him to continue again. “I meant when I told you I don’t want you to be _obligated_ to love me. Or to even _like_ me. What I feel shouldn’t matter when it comes to how _you_ make yourself happy.”

Cloud blinked at Sephiroth, wide-eyes and perplexed. “Where did you learn that?”

“I learned it from you and your family. Selfishness goes to your homes to die, Cloud.” Sephiroth smirked for a moment. “Thankfully, you’re not so self-sacrificing that you’re all doormats, either. One could pick up a few bad habits that way.”

Cloud smirked and nudged his shoulder. Zack squeaked at being paid so little attention by his carers, even though he had been nibbling on Sephiroth’s calloused fingers like a teething puppy. Sephiroth drew his hand away and wiped his hand on his jeans, taking the focus away from himself.

“Do you have any objections?” Sephiroth asked, lifting Zack so the boy stood on Sephiroth’s thighs. “How have you been doing on this trip?”

Cloud put a hand on Zack’s back to further stabilize him and ensure his balance. “He’s been giving Cid heart attacks and reminders on basic child safety measures. I’m pretty sure Cid’s gone over the whole ship with duct tape for anything under the three-foot mark.”

“Did he really chew a hole in that hose he found?” Sephiroth asked in amusement.

“No, because Uncle Cid caught him before he caused any real damage, but Cid’s going to replace it anyway, in case he did wear it down.”

Zack gestured with his hands and giggled. “He seems proud of himself,” Sephiroth noted.

“He probably is. More that he found where Uncle Cid hides all the tasty plastic things than the fact that he nearly gave his Papa a heart attack when he vanished,” said Cloud. Cloud leaned in and scooped Zack away from Sephiroth’s lap, giving Zack a mild toss in the air before catching him again.

“It’s a good thing the Turks are defunct. A child with his ability to get into such places would be a valuable asset.”

Cloud shook his head and blew a raspberry into Zack’s cheek before asking, “You wouldn’t work for Tseng, would you? No…. he’s too grumpy. No fun, right?”

Zack just responded with more giggles and a reach of his hands to grab Cloud’s face with small fingers. Sephiroth watched the two of them and took a long breath, wondering to himself if he was nearly as good a parent as Cloud seemed to be. Caring for children seemed so natural to Cloud, when Sephiroth knew that he had originally railed against the idea of just settling down into a quiet, family life.

 Sephiroth reflected on the now-hazy dream that Aerith had first presented him with when he returned from the Lifestream. A family life, a loving husband… well, he had part of that now, with Zack’s adoration for him unmistakable for anything else. A family life had been something he always had wanted, though he had been hesitant to think of himself as a possible family patriarch.

In spite of all the things that _were_ going well, Sephiroth still had a few things to close from his past, and once he explained as to why he wanted to meet with Lucrecia on his own, Cloud supported the idea. It was why he insisted on going with Sephiroth, talking Cid into transporting them to Costa del Sol with the intent of seeing Sephiroth off while Cloud, Kunsel and Zack stayed behind at his beach house.

And **that** had been an interesting conversation.

_“What do you mean, beach house?” Sephiroth asked._

_“Well, it’s a house, near the beach…”_

_Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. “You know very well that’s not what I was asking. **Why** do you have a beach house and **why** are we living in Edge instead?”_

_Cloud shrugged his shoulders and had trouble meeting Sephiroth’s eye. “Well, I kind of… I bought it a long time ago. I didn’t think I’d be alive to even use it!”_

_“So why are we-“_

_“I’m native Nibelan, Seph. I wilt in too much sun.” Cloud smiled at him, and Sephiroth felt his anger subsiding, but the confusion lingered._

_“So… what do you do with it?”_

_Cloud cleared his throat. “Most of the time, I rent it out. I’ve been putting money away for Denzel to go to school on, and to pay off medical bills for some of the homeless we’ve been helping…”_

_Sephiroth had felt like a heel for getting upset over Cloud and his constant altruism. Though Cloud did divide the extra income from renting his beach house out on occasion, it explained why they lived frugally, but with the ability to splurge once in a while. However, he still wished that Cloud had at least told him sooner – and that Genesis had not been snooping in their apartment when he discovered the little secret. Most of all, Sephiroth greatly disapproved of Genesis’ attempt at sowing some entertaining chaos by tattling on Cloud like an overgrown kindergartner._

_“I hope you’re putting some of it toward Zack’s schooling too,” Sephiroth said, giving in with a droop to his shoulders._

_“Of course I am. Forgive me?”_

_“You know I do. However, this does mean we’re going to have to go shopping again. I don’t have a swimsuit.”_

_Cloud’s eyes lit up a little, and Sephiroth felt any remaining animosity melt away. It was easy to forget that Cloud had once been poor himself, and even if they never bought anything, going to the mall always provided sort of adventure. Sephiroth had never wanted for much in the past, so he enjoyed getting something of an education on “how to shop,” if only to be amused by Cloud’s enthusiasm for it._

 

Once they landed just outside of Costa del Sol, they were greeted by a man that Sephiroth somewhat recognized – as he did in regards to all of Cloud’s friends beyond Tifa – and his daughter. Introduced to Barret, Sephiroth received a vague threat about “keeping his pasty ass in line” not just from Barret, but echoed (with less cursing) through his little girl, Marlene.

As soon as the thinly veiled threats were issued and Cloud promised Barret that Sephiroth would be not be a menace, Barret helped toss their bags into his truck, and the passengers were divided between Barret’s truck, Cid’s 4x4 and a local’s van they rented for the occasion. Cloud, Kunsel, Zack and Sephiroth rode in the van, Genesis squeezed into the back of Barret’s truck while Denzel piled in front with Barret and Marlene, and Vincent rode behind Cid.

Sitting in the back with Zack while Cloud drove the van into town, Sephiroth watched the scenery passing by. The coast had been a place he had taken for granted, never really going on “vacation” himself.

In the very least, it promised to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a pacer chapter this round, but we're almost at the end of this particular arc, which I hope to have to you soon! 
> 
> Love <3!


	18. Obligatory Beach Episode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Costa del Sol, words are exchanged, revelations are had, moments pass.

Cloud expected many things when they got to the beach. Naturally, he expected the heat and humidity, and it was a good break from the encroaching winter in Edge, even if the city never got nearly as cold as Nibelheim had. He also expected Barret to ask where Tifa was, and when Cloud replied that she was spending “quality time with her new girlfriend,” Cloud thought Barret was going to hit the floor.

“Well, it’s about damn time!” Barret replied. “Planet knows Tifa can be an independent woman, no question, but she seemed so damn lonely, too.”

Cloud asked what that had meant, but Barret just vaguely replied, “You’re still a punk-ass kid sometimes, Spiky,” and ruffled his hair.

After that, Cloud had his other expectations met: Zack loved being on the beach and running around, permitted to be barefoot again, with the sand between his toes and splashing along the shallows near the shore. Since Meteorfall, the WRO had rolled out new protection incentives for people from their labs, and one of them was an underwater defense against Sauhagin – a sonic device that irritated the monstrous fish-men and kept them away from the coast. Most importantly, it eased Cloud’s fears about having the kids around the water.

Another fulfilled expectation was how many heads Sephiroth turned when he stripped down to join them in the water. Cloud had opted for shorts, as had most of the men in their party, including Genesis. Of course, Sephiroth had to go and pick out swim _briefs_ instead of trunks, which showed off every muscle in his body with the exception of what little the briefs actually covered. Cloud even caught Barret taking a long look.

“At my age, I’m mature ‘nough to admit he’s a good lookin’ man, Spiky.” Barret smirked down at Cloud. “And besides that, you _and_ your boyfriend were lookin’ at him like the blue-plate special, so don’t even start with me. Only ones who ain’t are Cid an’ Vincent.”

Cloud snorted. “Cid’s only got eyes for Vincent and Vincent is Sephiroth’s biological father.”

Barret huffed and clapped Cloud on the shoulder. “I thought that grumpy expression looked familiar. Gets it from his pops,” he said, before heading over to Denzel, Marlene, and Zack so the kids could bury him in the sand.

 

It took a couple days for everyone to really adjust to their impromptu “vacation.” A couple of sandcastles built by the kids, an overly competitive game of volleyball that ended when Cid took the ball to the face, and enough sun and swimming that the initial excitement of staying in Costa del Sol waned to a relaxed calm. Even Barret’s understandable hostility toward Sephiroth faded after an in depth conversation they had regarding energy resources, conservation and single-fatherhood.

By the third day, Cloud’s fair skin had crisped to a reasonably tan shade, as had Kunsel’s. Zack had been slathered with the strongest sunscreen they could find outside of just keeping him entirely clothed, and Cid had already been burnt to an uncomfortable pink. Vincent’s ability to stay in every shadow they came across or dress for maximum sun-blockage had him staying as pale as ever, and revived the joke about his possibly being a vampire.

Sephiroth, though… Cloud had to stifle himself when the sun managed to leave its mark on Sephiroth’s incandescently white skin. Kunsel had bet he would be as red as boiled lobster by the second day – Genesis too. There were only so many protections Mako enhancements could offer, after all. Genesis had turned a light shade of bronze, with his hair getting redder with the sunlight. A look he peacocked all over the beach when he wanted the attention.

What Cloud learned and nearly squealed over was the fact that sunlight brought out every hidden freckle on Sephiroth. After two days of wearing as little as legally possible on the beach, Sephiroth’s ivory white skin had become a star map of light freckles. His nose, the apples of his cheeks and across the tops of his shoulders were especially abundant in them.

 

“Planet to Cloud! Hey!” Kunsel’s hand waved in front of his eyes and Cloud jolted back. “You were staring again. Next time, I’m just going to dump the water right on you.” Kunsel took a seat on the towel beside Cloud and handed him his bottle of water.

“Sorry, babe…” trailed Cloud. His eyes wandered over to where Sephiroth stood near Barret, both men keeping an eye on Zack, Marlene and Denzel while they played with some local children. “I was…”

“Staring after Sephiroth again.”

Cloud frowned and opened his water. “I was not. I was watching the kids. Zack’s mine, too, you know. And Denzel.”

Kunsel snorted. “Yeah. But they are down there,” he replied, gesturing with his own water bottle. “Sephiroth is over there, where you were looking.”

“Fine, but so what? Maybe I’m amazed that he’s getting along with Barret. Tifa had to put him through hard labor before she really calmed down around him,” Cloud responded.

“And maybe you’re using that as an excuse,” said Kunsel. Cloud gave him a glare, which lasted for all of ten seconds when he saw that look of understanding on Kunsel’s face. “Look, Cloud… you know I care about you. And hell, he’s hot.”

Cloud suppressed a chuckle and glanced toward Sephiroth again. Zack had toddled over to him with a rather large shell in his hand for Sephiroth to hold onto; his latest hobby since coming to Costa del Sol had shifted from nibbling on things to collecting whatever interested him. Thankfully, the beach was relatively free of litter.

Kunsel sighed. “And you and he take great care of Zack together. You two don’t even need to talk to get through Zack’s bedtime routine.”

“Well, it’s a routine…”

“Yet, I’ve gotta always ask what to do when I’m over.”

Cloud ran a hand through his hair and looked away from everyone, fixing his gaze on the colorful towel he sat on. “What are you saying?”

“I’m not really saying so much as asking… why are you with me? I mean, honestly. Sephiroth’s right there, he’s pretty receptive to whatever you ask of him… I’m pretty sure he’d leave if you asked him to, but you guys stay in that apartment together.”

“Kunsel…”

“I’m not even sure I could ask you to move in with me. Even if we got a bigger place, together. Or stuck around in the old ShinRa place you’ve got here.”

“What would Sephiroth do?” Cloud asked. He picked up his head and looked at Kunsel.

Kunsel’s eyes were a little glossy, but he was smiling. “I don’t think he needs to do anything. He’s got everything he needs.” Kunsel leaned over and kissed Cloud gently.

Cloud felt cold under the beach sun. “No… I can’t be with him.”

Kunsel pulled back and raised a brow. “Why not? It’s pretty obvious you want-“

“No. I can’t do it.”

“Look, Cloud, if you’re worried about me…”

Cloud shook his head and wiped at his eyes. “It’s me, I’m worried about. I don’t…” He looked toward the vast ocean, as if it had the words he needed. “I don’t like my future being set for me. When he brought Zack home… I was really… I’m afraid I _have_ to do what he wants.”

Kunsel’s arm circled around Cloud’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Maybe… if this was right after he came back, I’d think you were right, but it’s headed for the end of the year. Going on six months since you found him. He hasn’t tried to kill anybody… hell, he seems pretty content with the life he’s building with you.”

“We’re not-“

“Cloud.” Kunsel pushed Cloud back enough so he could look him in the eyes. “Don’t lie to me. You know I get to the truth. You might not want it, but it kinda happened. Look at Zack, how happy he is with the both of you.”

Cloud dropped his head and mournfully replied, “Zack loves you, too…”

“I know he does. And believe you me, I love him right back. Makes me miss the man he was, but this kid’s a whole different person. I kind of wish you’d gotten to know Fair a little more before he died. Because there are some things about this kid that definitely remind _me_ of Fair, but I don’t think you’d recognize them.” Kunsel sighed and pulled Cloud up against him once more. “So, I’d still like to be around.”

Cloud lifted his head and put it on Kunsel’s shoulder. “I want you to be around for him. I think he’d start wondering why you don’t come to the apartment anymore. And, I want him to have a big family. You’re part of that now, regardless of where we are.”

“That’s all I could ask for.” Kunsel smiled again, his eyes drier now. “So… what do we do about us?”

“Can we just… be happy for a little bit? I still really like you.” Cloud turned and put his weight into Kunsel so they both fell back onto the towel, lying with each other, tangled in limbs. “Sephiroth’s about to go on a pretty emotional journey…”

“I still say you should go with him for that – regardless of our ‘us’ status. I think Genesis is _not_ the guy he wants around for that.”

Cloud shrugged and tucked his chin into the nape of Kunsel’s neck. “I tried to tell him that, but he made a good point. Someone should be with Zack. And I’ve been a shitty dad lately.” Cloud yelped a moment later, Kunsel having swatted him on the backside where he could reach.

“You’re not a shitty dad. You’re a working man, and Zack is still glad to see you every time you walk through that door. Even if I’m not there with you, you can’t tell me I’m wrong.”

Cloud sighed and closed his eyes. “You’re right. Though he might get confused when Sephiroth leaves.”

“How _have_ you explained that to him?”

“I tried telling Zack that Sephiroth was going to find his mommy, but I don’t think he grasps the concept of time yet. Trying to explain that he’ll be gone for a while…” Cloud sighed and looked above them to clear, blue skies. “I mean, he _is_ three.”

After a short while of holding each other and laying together, Kunsel broke the quiet between them and turned his head so he was nose to nose with Cloud.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” replied Cloud.

Kunsel turned onto his side and rubbed his hand over Cloud’s arm before he asked, “Did you love me?”

Cloud bit his bottom lip and thought about it before he replied. “Kay, it’s… I’m… I _do_ love you. I just…” He tucked his face against Kunsel’s shoulder while Kunsel waited patiently for him to continue. “I love a lot of people. I do even kind of love him already.”

Kunsel chuckled and pulled Cloud closer. “That’s all I wanted to know. I’m not mad, you know? I think I get it. You love a lot, and easily. I don’t really think it’s in you to hate someone. You can be pissed off, but…”

“I hated Sephiroth for a while… when he killed Aerith,” Cloud interrupted. As much as he liked the heaped on praise from Kunsel, he did not grasp some things just right. “Or maybe I hated that I basically led her to her death. I mean… I completely dissociated. I thought I was Zack, but still also me. Nevertheless, I couldn’t really be Cloud Strife: SOLDIER wannabe. I became someone else.”

“Okay, so you weren’t you… and you’re not the same kid who joined up years ago, either. Sephiroth’s not the same guy he was… and I’m not the same man I am,” said Kunsel. “If we were, we’d never be better people.”

Cloud sat up on his elbow and looked down at Kunsel. “Where’d all this wisdom come from?”

Kunsel grinned up at Cloud from where he lay. “Comes with old age. I mean, I am pushing forty.”

Cloud laughed and pushed him gently. “So, I’ve been sleeping with a dirty old man? Should I call you grandpa?”

Kunsel laughed and covered his face. “No, not yet. But I will pay you many Gil if you teach Zack to call Vincent that. A bonus is in it for you if you survive his reaction.”

“I don’t think I’d get to. Cid would probably strangle me for implying Vincent’s an old man. Even though he is.”

Kunsel laughed and sat up again, making a show of cracking his back and groaning in horribly, guttural grunts. “Oh, these old bones can’t take the hard sand like they used to…”

Cloud snorted and leaned against Kunsel. “You know… most guys would probably throw a tantrum if their boyfriend eyeballed someone else.”

“I’m clearly not like most guys. Though, I can’t say I’m happy… I was…” Kunsel took a deep breath and looked away from Cloud. “I was waiting for the shoe to drop. Hell, I figured I was just a pleasant memory up until you called me for help.” Kunsel waved as Marlene jogged over to grab a soda from their cooler and he waited until she had retreated to Barret’s side with it to continue. “Is that why you wanted to go out with me? Because I flew to your rescue?”

“Something like that…” Cloud rubbed the back of his head. “Let’s just say… I don’t confront my feelings very well and when I feel like I’m going to let someone down, I go running.” He recalled his time spent sleeping in the church when he thought he would let Denzel down for not finding a treatment for Geostigma.

“Who did you think you were going to let down if you dated Sephiroth?”

“Myself.” Cloud sniffed and shook his head. “I just… I was scared.”

Kunsel nodded and put his arm around Cloud’s shoulders. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anymore.”

 

\-------------------------

 

Across the beach, Barret and Sephiroth were engaged in their own conversation while they kept watchful eyes on their respective children. Denzel and Marlene had been good about including the much younger Zack in their activities. At Cloud’s encouragement, they spoke to each other with their hands, so Zack could continue to learn that he could vocalize his words – he just needed to understand that they were a way he could communicate.

Barret turned to look over at Cloud and Kunsel, distant, but still part of the group. Squinting in the sunlight, he looked over to Sephiroth. “You know, you ain’t a thing like I imagined you to be.”

Sephiroth chuckled and smoothed some wayward strands out of his eyes. “That’s the third time you’ve said that since you determined I was no longer a global threat. What makes you say it this time?”

Barret shrugged and turned his gaze back toward the children. “Can’t say. I mean, I know the ‘you’ we fought. All arrogant and willing to destroy. Now you’ve got a boy an’ you let Marlene braid your hair…”

“I was told by Denzel it would be an insult to the House of Wallace if I didn’t allow Lady Marlene the opportunity,” Sephiroth said with another chuckle. “Am I too humble for you now? Is that what’s confusing?”

Barret rubbed at the back of his neck. “Confusing? Nah. I just… I figured you’d be like a lotta those other ShinRa types. Full’a shit and spoiled as hell.”

Sephiroth actually laughed quite loudly at the insinuation. “I see. You expected me to behave as a member of the ShinRa family.” Sephiroth crouched when Zack brought him a shiny blue shell from the water’s edge to add to Zack’s collection. “Thank you. You have a good eye,” Sephiroth replied, his hands following his words. Sephiroth stood again and dusted off the shell with a quick breath.

“You see, Barret, I was given the opportunity to have whatever I wanted, but ShinRa couldn’t give me this,” Sephiroth continued. He held the shell up for Barret to see. It was just an ordinary clam shell, perhaps more sand-beaten into smoothness than others Zack could have picked up, but it was special to Zack.

Barret smirked and nodded. “I get it. At least about the kid. What’s up with you an’ Cloud?”

Sephiroth tucked the shell into his palm and looked away. His bangs obscured his face as he murmured, “We’re just friends-AH!” Sephiroth rubbed at his elbow where Barret had nudged him with his metal arm. “What?”

“I can’t hear you if you’re gonna mutter at the sand,” said Barret, gesturing to his eyes with his index and middle fingers. He followed it up by pointing at his ear, where a fine, silver earpiece hooked over the back of the lobe. “The right’s my better one, but the aids don’t catch all that melancholy murmuring.”

Sephiroth sighed, and looked up at Barret’s face. “Cloud and I are just friends. He’s been very good about helping me adjust.”

“Friends, huh?” Barret glanced further out into the water, where Genesis was flirting with the local attempting to give him surf lessons. “Because he gives a different impression.”

Rolling his eyes, Sephiroth shook his head. “Genesis likes to stir the pot for his own amusement. He proclaims himself on the side of goodness, but he’s still the same drama queen I knew in SOLDIER. I think he enjoys watching me squirm.”

“So, then, what’s the story? You got a heart-on for Cloud or not?”

Sephiroth snorted inelegantly and rubbed at his nose. “That’s an interesting turn of phrase…”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Yes. If you must know.”

Barret shrugged and glanced back at the kids. Denzel was carting a bucket of water back from the ocean, followed by Zack, who carried a little cup of water back to their sandcastle. “I kinda did anyway. Nobody looks at another person the way you do without there bein’ somethin’ there.”

Sephiroth bristled for a moment before he exhaled his tension and loosened his shoulders. “I suppose I am obvious. But that doesn-“

“Of course it matters.” Barret turned and unfolded his arms from across his chest. “Maybe you don’t see it, but he cares for you. Loving people is what Cloud does. He don’t do it the old, romantic way, with flowers an’ mixtapes of love songs an’ shit, but he does it. And us fools follow him because he’s damned easy to love right back.”

Barret’s statements made Sephiroth take a step back and look him more squarely in the eye. “He… loves me?” Something fluttered in Sephiroth’s chest for a moment before he realized it was his heart.

“Damned right he does. Maybe not the way you’re lookin’ at ‘im for, but he does. It ain’t just one end or the other. You don’t think any of us assholes would just help some muckity-muck dumbass save the world jus’ because he had the bigass sword, do you? We love that little shit, and he loves us.”

Sephiroth swallowed and forced a laugh. He looked away and covered his mouth; he could feel his cheeks burning with a heat that did not come from the overhead sun. “I never… it didn’t occur to me.”

Barret scoffed and grinned. “Well, that’s fuckin’ obvious.”

“I’m glad you find my lack of awareness amusing,” Sephiroth said with a small pout. “Being sheltered-“ He leaned into Barret’s space and Barret swatted him off with a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. The caged bird sings for its freedom, don’t know what to do with it when he gets it.” Barret leaned down when Marlene came over and he scooped her up onto his shoulder. Turning to Sephiroth, he concluded: “Just don’t fly too high, now.”

Sephiroth frowned at the vague advice before he leaned down and picked up Zack. “Did you have fun?”

Zack nodded and yawned. The day was dragging on, and Zack looked ready for a nap.

“Well, then. Let’s get you to rest,” said Sephiroth. He carried Zack over to Cloud and Kunsel to announce that he was heading back to Cloud’s beach house.

Cloud got up from his place on the beach towel with Kunsel. “I can put him down for a nap. You’ve been watching him all morning.”

“I was giving you two some alone time,” Sephiroth replied.

Cloud frowned and tucked Zack against his shoulder. “About that…” he began, but Denzel interrupted as he came jogging over to the four of them.

“Hey, Cloud. Is it all right if I still hang out with some of the local kids?” he asked.

Cloud smiled and gave a nod of his head. “Of course. Just don’t get into any trouble. And stay away from the sandbar.”

Denzel groaned, but agreed. “Fine, fine,” he said, before he trotted off again, joined by some of the older boys who he had made friends with in the first few days of their vacation.

Sephiroth smiled, wanly. “He’s quite active,” he said.

Cloud nodded and hoisted Zack further up. Already, Zack had passed out on Cloud’s shoulder. “Would you keep an eye on him for me? I have a feeling those kids will talk him into something dangerous.”

“Now who’s the mother Chocobo?” Kunsel said as he shook out their beach towel. “You worry too much, and your hair’s gonna go gray.”

“What’s wrong with gray hair?” asked Sephiroth.

Cloud laughed and shook his head. “Shut up, both of you. Seph, go relax, for a change. Get some more sun. Maybe you’ll actually tan.”

Sephiroth raised a brow. “Didn’t you have something you wanted to say?”

Cloud shook his head with a smile that did not quite meet his eyes. “It can wait. You’ve been busy enough. Go for a swim. Or learn to surf. Do something for you,” he said, quieter than normal. “I’ll take care of him, grab a shower. I think I’ve got sand in places I didn’t know I had.”

Sephiroth grimaced at the mental image and gave Cloud a relenting nod. “If you insist…” he said, turning away. As he left Zack with Kunsel and Cloud, he overheard Kunsel, who lamented:

“They couldn’t get him to relax back _then,_ either.”

 

\-----------------------------

 

Sephiroth spent almost two hours in the water, mostly by himself. He had made laps of the cordoned off “deep end” of the beach’s safe area to swim in, dove as deep as he could see through and eventually gave up swimming and resigned to float in the water. Being in the deeper area meant fewer children and allowed him a chance to think.

After Barret had learned of his quest to cross the continent in search of his mother’s resting place, the older man had offered Sephiroth and Genesis a ride as far as Corel, which would halve their travel time. Sephiroth had voted against taking wing until they would be certain to be away from prying eyes. Genesis did not like the decision, but had eventually relented.

That just left other matters. Zack still did not really understand that Sephiroth would be leaving them in a couple of days, even if it would only be temporary. Yet, parting from Zack was something Sephiroth dreaded almost as much as meeting his lost mother. The boy had truly grown on him, and he realized that he would absolutely take Zack as his child, even if he had no real family name to give to Zack. Cloud already shared custody of Denzel… it was not unreasonable to share with Cloud… unless… Kunsel objected.

“Kunsel,” Sephiroth breathed to the blue skies above him. He continued to float in the relative peace of the ocean, though he still felt his heart sink. Kunsel was a good man; certainly, a decent fit with Cloud and Zack appeared to like him. However, Sephiroth reminded himself to be realistic. The living arrangement they had was not ideal for Cloud to carry on a relationship with Kunsel and have Sephiroth around.

It was a familiar feeling. Being present in someone’s life, cared for, but an accessory in the end. Genesis, as he was now, only seemed interested in flirting with anyone of legal age; Sephiroth could not blame him, however. There were no replacements for Angeal, even if the man still hung around within the hound-dog avatar he had used to protect Zack.

_At least he stopped flirting with Vincent…_ Sephiroth mused to himself. There was no question that Genesis’ interest in stealing Vincent away from Cid had considerably waned when he realized Vincent was Sephiroth’s biological father.

Sephiroth’s personal reverie came to a grinding halt when he found himself suddenly pulled beneath the water. He thrashed about, but whatever grabbed him was smart enough to swim away and out of his reach before he could strike.

Surfacing and gagging on ocean salt, Sephiroth looked around for his assailant, only to be met by the top of Genesis’ head, sticking out just enough so the Mako in his eyes reflected like motes of glitter under his own shadow.

Sephiroth swiped an arm through the water and splashed at Genesis. “You’re an ass,” he rasped, still gagging on seawater.

Genesis moved back to tread water further away from Sephiroth’s reach, coming up just a little further from the water’s surface. “And you’ve been floating out here like melancholy flotsam for almost an hour, my friend. Your hair is going to take _days_ to dry now.”

“Is that all you wanted?” Sephiroth replied, still irritated by the fact that Genesis had managed to sneak up on him. He really _had_ been too deep in thought. “I could have electrocuted you.”

“You’re not so foolish as to use a Bolt spell in the _water_ , Sephiroth. And you can hear, as well as I, that we are still within the safe zone. However, I _am_ here to fetch you for supper. I can smell the fire roasted pig from here, and I am starving.”

Sephiroth frowned, but at least Genesis was not prying - yet. He turned and dove into the water to put some distance between himself and Genesis, getting a head start back to land. Once they were in the shallows, however…

“So, care to fill me in on why you decided to play driftwood out there? Or, is that a subject for another time?” asked Genesis.

Sephiroth stood in the ankle-high water and twisted his hair to wring it dry. “If I don’t tell you, you’re going to prod at me until I do.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“I was thinking about Zack. I’d like to share custody of him with Cloud, but I am uncertain if Kunsel would agree to the idea,” Sephiroth said.

Genesis put his hands on his hips and tutted. “Nonsense. Kunsel is one of the few, reasonable people to come out of that awful SOLDIER program. I dare say Cloud would sooner dump him than let Kunsel bully you away from your son.”

“Do you really think of him as my son?” Sephiroth asked. He felt charmed by the idea, still enamored with being a parent. Not just Zack’s caretaker, but really being his father. A faded image of an older boy with a deeply loved, stuffed Chocobo sitting in Sephiroth’s lap flitted through his mind.

“Of course, you nitwit. Anyone who sees the two of you together assumes you fathered him yourself.” Genesis walked ahead of Sephiroth to his towel and sat, scrubbing the sand from his legs. “I have never seen you be so careful, so _gentle_ with another living soul in my life. In the very least, you finally have someone worth living for.”

Sephiroth had been toweling off his face while Genesis was talking and lifted his head at the end of his statement. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Genesis leaned back on his palms and gave Sephiroth a considering look, which Sephiroth met while he waited for a reply.

“I suppose it was to come out sooner or later. Cloud’s little Cetra friend, Aerith.” Genesis stood and began to pick up his things. “She wanted you to find a reason to live. Perhaps as a means to redeem yourself in her eyes or to preoccupy your mind with something other than abstract hatred. It seems to have worked.”

“That’s…” Sephiroth frowned, dropped his towel in his beach bag and began to pull on the loose linen pants that he usually wore through town. “Rather generous of her.” Sephiroth took a deep breath and tied off his trousers. “Considering…”

“Considering you ran her through. Yes, yes, we’ve examined this.” Genesis shouldered his own bag and donned a sun hat with an oppressively wide brim. Sephiroth leaned away when Genesis tilted into his space. “Honestly, as much as I enjoy your torment, watching you twist yourself up in knots is a little tiring. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be moving forward?”

“I _am_ moving forward, Genesis.” Sephiroth took a step back and away from Genesis and his ludicrously wide sun hat. “But recovery is not a straight line. If it was, I would probably be a much better adjusted human being. And you would still be backsliding.”

“Excuse you, I never backslid—backslided…? I moved on.”

Sephiroth raised a brow and scoffed. “So, when you returned to Midgar, you weren’t trying to run me through but give me a very aggressive hug. With your sword.”

Genesis rolled his eyes. “Okay, so I’m as terribly adjusted as you are. I am good enough to admit it, however.”

“At least you admit it. That is usually the first step toward recovery.”

Sephiroth found his space invaded again by Genesis and his overbearing sunhat.

“Don’t you quote your self-help books to _me,_ Sephiroth Valentine. I already read them while you’ve been toiling away as bus boy,” sneered Genesis.

The inclusion of his temporary last name made Sephiroth snort with laughter as they moved away from the beach to join up with the others for dinner. The warm sun had begun to set, casting everything orange highlights and violet shadows.

“How long have you been waiting for me to have a surname, _just_ so you could use it against me?” asked Sephiroth.

“Much longer than I care to admit. Now move your ass, I’m starving.”

 

As they headed up toward the beach house, many locals and seasoned tourists passed the pair of them, headed toward the main street. The fire-roasted pig that Genesis had sniffed out rolled by on a cart wheeled by one of the local caterers. A small festival blossomed in the small town square, an event usually held on the weekends, or so it had been explained by Barret to Sephiroth.

How he had gone so long without learning the customs of other places, Sephiroth did not know, but he reserved the idea of learning in a private space in the back of his mind, for later. He had been all over the world, yet knew so little, of both people and places. Then again, few who conquered that world really needed to keep up with the culture of a place that might be wiped off the map.

As Sephiroth mulled over his lack of understanding while Genesis went on about his stomach and how much he wanted to follow along in his swim trunks, they were interrupted when Sephiroth nearly tripped over, grabbed by the leg by a tiny pair of arms wrapping around him like a pair of bolas. Stumbling on the walkway to Cloud’s beach house, Sephiroth caught himself before he tumbled on top of Zack, who had latched around his calf with all of his limbs.

Genesis smirked as he breezed by, leaving Sephiroth to fend for himself. “You seem to have brought an octopus from the ocean, my dear. Best return it home before it inks all over your leg.”

“Don’t be crass, Genesis,” Sephiroth hissed, before he stooped to pry Zack from his leg and lift the boy into the air with a little toss. Zack giggled and curled against Sephiroth’s collarbone as Sephiroth carried him back to the house. Kunsel met Sephiroth at the door; the former nearly breathless.

“Man, that kid can run. I mean, he _bolted_ as soon as I got him dressed. I don’t know if he was looking for you or Cloud, but that nap gave’im a second wind. I’ve been chasing him all over,” said Kunsel as he leaned in the doorway.

Sephiroth just chuckled and tickled under Zack’s chin. Zack cooed as if he were a little angel, and not thirty pounds of mischief.

“Second class SOLDIER outrun by a preschooler. Perhaps we should have recruited younger?” Sephiroth smirked and pushed back Zack’s hair. Zack looked up at him, wide-eyed and innocent. “Or maybe there’s more of Fair left in him than just his spirit.”

Kunsel huffed and shook his head. “Yeah, Fair was always hyper. I tell you, if that kid starts doing squats… Look out. You an’ Cloud are in for a _ride,_ man.” Kunsel sighed and looked up at Sephiroth, studying him, it seemed.

Unnerved by Kunsel looking at him with some sort of expectation, Sephiroth went into the house with Zack and put him on his feet. Zack walked over to the couch and climbed up onto it, beside Barret, who tousled Zack’s hair with a laugh.

“Where is, Cloud?” Sephiroth asked. “If you needed help with Zack—“

“Oh, he’s in the bedroom. He…” Kunsel paused and looked up at Sephiroth. He opened his mouth and closed it again, then looked away, rubbing at the back of his head. “Uh, Cloud wasn’t feeling well. I said I’d get him for dinner, but… maybe you’d like to wake him up?”

Sephiroth raised a brow at Kunsel’s sudden shift in demeanor, but he did not bother to ask. Kunsel always seemed to give him a little bit of a shifty gaze, and he could hardly blame the man for it.

Giving a nod, Sephiroth turned toward the stairs. “After I’ve changed and had a rinse off,” he said, ascending the wood steps.

As Sephiroth moved upstairs, he overheard Barret, from below, asking Kunsel:

“You gonna be okay?”

To which Kunsel replied: “Maybe. I dunno.”

With that mysterious conversation behind him, Sephiroth went to his room, grabbed a change of clothes, and headed to the bathroom he shared with Barret and the kids. As he rinsed himself off, he could not help but wonder what Barret meant, if Kunsel’s looks to him were related to the question. He did not want to get his hopes up, to think…

_No, it is just wishful thinking. Kunsel has been cagey ever since I returned. He’s seen too much of me as his General to let that old image fade…_ Sephiroth reasoned as he washed the ocean salt from his skin. _Not with the way they were huddled together… like always…_

 

Clean and dressed, with his damp hair tied loosely behind him with a ribbon borrowed from Marlene’s impressive collection, Sephiroth slipped down the hall to the other wing, where Cloud’s master bedroom and en suite were connected. As much as it impressed Sephiroth that Cloud could afford such a place, it did not surprise him when he had learned it was an abandoned ShinRa property; unlike the residents of Nibelheim, however, the people of Costa del Sol had not allowed it to go to pot, and put it up for sale. Cloud’s purchase of it had been a whim, as he said; he had the money, it was going for cheap and he did not think he would have lived to even use it, but he liked the idea of owning a home. The income from renting it was not steady, but enough to keep Cloud out of the red.

Still, the idea that Cloud had his own _wing_ when Sephiroth was used to the cozy confines of their apartment…

Shaking off the random thoughts pinging in his brain, Sephiroth knocked lightly at Cloud’s door. He wanted Cloud awake, but not irritated.

“Cloud? It’s getting late, and the town’s gathering for their dinner ceremony… thing…”

Cloud made a noise behind the door. Sephiroth contemplated leaving, but Cloud called out to him.

“It’s okay, you can come in. Just… shut the door behind you.”

Obeying Cloud’s request, Sephiroth slipped inside Cloud’s room and shut the door. He kept his distance, where he could see Cloud sitting on his king size bed, staring at the floor and looking generally miserable. His hands gripped the edge of the bed with white knuckles, arms shaking and Cloud breathing deeply.

“Are… are you all right?” Sephiroth asked, his voice very quiet. “Did you and Kunsel have a fight? I heard Barret—“

“No, no, not a fight. Not with him, anyway. I’ve been… fighting myself.”

Sephiroth frowned and folded his arms over his chest. “With yourself? That seems like a losing battle.”

“Oh, trust me, it is.” Cloud lifted his head briefly, and Sephiroth caught a glimpse of puffy, pink eyes and a rubbed-raw nose under Cloud’s disheveled bangs and sun-warmed skin.

“Is it my fault?” Sephiroth whispered.

Cloud looked up at him again and shook his head. “No. Well…” Cloud flopped back onto his bed. “You’re innocent, really. You’re just trying to exist, now. I… I’m the one complicating things.”

Sephiroth edged closer to the bed until he could rest his hand on one of the wooden posts that surrounded the bed. “You’re not just saying that to humor me, are you?”

“No, of course not. I mean it.” Cloud covered his face with both hands. “It’s all me, Seph.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” Sephiroth moved closer until his knee hit the foot of the bed and he leaned his weight into the post he held onto. “What’s wrong?”

Cloud barked a hollow laugh and rubbed at his face. He dropped one hand on the bed and used the other to push his hair away from his eyes. Sephiroth saw him better, realized how bloodshot his eyes were from crying, and moved around to stand by Cloud’s dangling legs.

“Can I help?” asked Sephiroth.

Cloud hissed a breath between his teeth and let his other arm fall. “Why are you so nice to me?” Cloud asked.

Sephiroth took a step back and shook his head. “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re my friend.”

“I know, but…”

“But what?”

“I still want to hate you, but I can’t. I really can’t. Not anymore. I don’t have it in me.”

Sephiroth turned and sat on the bed beside Cloud, then stretched out to lie beside him. “Barret told me that you love people differently. Almost indiscriminately. You, yourself, said that there isn’t a thing you don’t cherish. Is it safe to assume I’m… cherished?”

Cloud snorted and rolled onto his side so he faced Sephiroth. “Of course you are. Maybe not when you hurt others, but the memory of my hero, and… kind of weirdly, the only person I can really face and feel like it’s a challenge…”

Sephiroth smirked and closed his eyes. “How do you think I felt when a little troop-mm?”

Before he could finish his thought, Cloud pushed across the space between them and planted his lips on Sephiroth’s mouth. Unlike the kiss from Genesis, that had felt like desperation and a shock of electricity, Cloud’s lips upon his own were softer, more yielding, and trembling.

Sephiroth’s hand came up to caress Cloud’s cheek a moment before he gently pried Cloud away and looked at him. Cloud’s eyes were open, but focused on the bedspread they laid on rather than Sephiroth’s face.

“You never cease to take me by surprise,” Sephiroth whispered. He ran his thumb over Cloud’s cheek and earned a shuddering sigh for it. “What brought this on?”

Cloud sniffed and looked up at him, bold blue eyes watering slightly. “I just… I actually stopped to realize how much you do. Watching you take care of Zack, play with him…” Cloud shifted a little closer so he curled into Sephiroth’s chest. “I couldn’t really see how much the two of you have bonded.”

Sephiroth smiled and slowly draped his arm over Cloud’s side. “He bonded with you, too. Whenever you’re home, he still curls up in your lap and sits or plays…”

“I’m not really talking about Zack, here. I’m not jealous that you’re like Super Dad to him. I just mean… fuck, I’m not sure what I mean.” Cloud pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I think I realized how _devoted_ you can be.”

Curling his arms a little tighter around Cloud, Sephiroth replied, “If only my devotion were worth more to some, history might have been better for the both of us. But… we wouldn’t be here, would we?”

Cloud shook his head, and then nuzzled up underneath Sephiroth’s chin so he spoke against his neck. “You’d be the General. I’d be… probably guarding Heidegger’s poodle or something.”

Sephiroth chuckled and rubbed his hand over Cloud’s shoulder. “Maybe. He was a very petty man.”

A few moments passed in silence after that, with Sephiroth only hearing Cloud’s shivery breaths and pounding heartbeat.

“Cloud? Are you going to be all right?” Sephiroth asked.

“I dunno. Probably.”

“Are you going to kiss me again?”

“Would you be offended if I did?”

“I’d like to think I’d be ecstatic.” Sephiroth pushed Cloud back a little and looked into his eyes. “Your timing is awful, however. I leave in three days.”

Cloud pushed himself up onto his elbow and picked at his fingers, if only to avoid looking Seph right in the eye. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come along? I’m sure Zack-“

“-would be in terrible danger, and half frozen if we went to Nibelheim with him. I didn’t pack his coat, for one thing,” Sephiroth replied. “Don’t tell him I said this, but Genesis is my best option to make this trip. We both need the closure, I think.”

“I know.”

Sephiroth sat up and pressed a kiss to Cloud’s forehead. When he pulled back, Cloud blinked up at him, lips puckered, expecting a different sort of contact. That he had anticipated one on the lips made Sephiroth smile. “Maybe later. You should clean up. Everyone’s probably thinking… _things_ about us.”

“Oh no… not _things_.”

Sephiroth laughed and pulled out of Cloud’s reach when Cloud half-heartedly lunged for him.

“Yes. _Things_. Now, put on your sundress and those little wedge sandals I know you packed. You haven’t worn them once, and it would be a shame to have kept Miss Cloud in the suitcase this whole time,” said Sephiroth.

Cloud shook his head, but a smile graced his lips. “I didn’t think you liked Miss Cloud.”

“On the contrary. She has very nice legs. But a horrible taste in men.”

“I’m telling Kunsel you said that!”

Before Sephiroth got too far away, Cloud took ahold of his wrist and pulled him back near the bed. He held on for a little bit; Sephiroth let him have his moment to contemplate what he wanted to say.

“You’re awfully… accepting of this,” Cloud said after moments of silence.

Sephiroth crouched beside Cloud’s bed, putting his hands on Cloud’s knees. “As I said, you always surprise me… I didn’t expect you to kiss me. I never expected you to _choose_ me, and…” Sephiroth took a deep breath and reached up to stroke Cloud’s cheek with the back of his fingers. “I’m not going to assume that one kiss—“ Sephiroth pulled back before Cloud kissed him again, just because Cloud was making his very point. “I’m not going to assume that one kiss changes anything. Nothing’s changed, until you say it has. I don’t want you to resent me.”

Cloud sniffed and nodded. “You know I don’t.”

Sephiroth chuckled. “I _think_ you don’t. Nevertheless, you’re a very mercurial man. That’s the best I can prepare for.” He ghosted his thumb over Cloud’s lips and received another shuddering sigh for it. “We both have a lot to process. Maybe, while I’m gone, you can think about how you really feel about me. I’ve made up my mind; whatever you want, I can accept. Even if you want me to get lost.”

“I don’t think Zack would let me kick you to the curb,” replied Cloud. He leaned over Sephiroth and pressed their foreheads together; Sephiroth allowed for it. “How do you put up with me? I’m probably confusing as hell.”

Sephiroth smiled gently and touched the tip of his nose to Cloud’s, earning a faint blush. “You are, but I think I like that about you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allllllllmost at the end of this arc, folks! So, so sorry about the long gap for this update, but I wanted to make sure it was a GOOD ONE. :D so I made it BIGGER, STRONGER! than my previous updates. It was a DOOZY wasn't it? 
> 
> I had hoped to end the arc here, but I think one more chapter before we close this out. Okay? Okay!
> 
> PS: Check out this link for everyone's swimwear: (slightly NSFWish because of tight swim suits) http://drneverland.tumblr.com/post/143370160817/swimwear-swimwear


	19. Silver and Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud thinks about things again.

“Something has changed.”

Cid looked up from his dinner to look at Vincent, whose eyes were on the group of villagers and tourists that surrounded the fire pit the people of Costa del Sol had lit for their weekend party. Cid followed Vincent’s gaze into the milling groups of people to Kunsel, who stood off to one side with Barret and Marlene. Denzel was nearby with a group of local kids who seemed to be daring each other to eat hot peppers.

“Whatcha mean?” asked Cid. “Cloud’s probably still asleep.”

Vincent turned in his seat and picked up his fork again. “Then Kunsel would be with Cloud. Yet, Cloud, Sephiroth and Zack are all absent.”

Cid licked barbecue sauce off his fingers with a thoughtful hum. “Well, I noticed Cloud’s been distracted lately.”

“So have I.”

“Yeah, well, you’re super observant, baby.”

Vincent’s lips curled into a brief smile before it dissolved with an interloper joining them at their table. Genesis pulled over a folding chair and seated himself. He dropped his full plate down into the empty space between Cid and Vincent and made himself at home.

“Hard to imagine what you’re gossiping about,” Genesis said, using his fork to pull apart the roasted meat he had been coveting. “Last I saw him; Sephiroth was dragging his precious little ankle weight into the beach house.”

“No, there they are.” Vincent lifted his drink and murmured behind it. “At least, Sephiroth and Zack.”

Genesis turned in his seat to observe behind him. Sure enough, Sephiroth carried Zack down to where the food was, then set the boy on his feet to follow, his small hand fastened to Sephiroth’s ponytail while the man himself loaded a tray with dinner for each of them from the buffet spread.

“Well, this is interesting,” Genesis said, watching Zack toddle along behind Sephiroth with his father’s hair in hand like a leash. Genesis licked his fingers and looked away from the adorable scene. “That child will be the death of him. I never suspected Sephiroth to have even the slightest paternal instinct. And yet…”

Cid chuckled and threw back a sip of his beer. “People ain’t two dimensional, huh? I ain’t a fan of his, but seein’ the way Seph takes care of that kid… it’s not redemption, but it’s…”

“Proof enough that he wishes to be better than he was,” Vincent supplemented.

Genesis sighed and picked at his food. “I don’t know how Cloud can separate one from the other. I still see the man who told me to go rot.”

“That’s yer problem,” Cid replied. “Cloud’s hands ain’t spotless, either. Hell, mine ain’t.”

“Nor are mine,” Vincent added.

Cid nodded and continued. “We all hurt people in an attempt to save the Planet. Shit, I _know_ we’ve killed people. Some of the shit we’ve done…” Cid leaned in Genesis’ direction. “Makes it hard to sleep at night. But we’re tryin’ to be better. And I think… I get why Cloud wants to help Sephiroth do the same.”

“Speak of the Devil,” Genesis leaned away from Cid and caught a glimpse of blond among the many dark haired locals. “Is he… in a dress?”

Vincent turned in his seat to follow Genesis’ gaze. “That’s not good.”

“Why?” Genesis glanced at Vincent’s profile, which was set in an unreadable mask.

Cid rolled his shoulders and sighed. “When Cloud dresses up, he needs it. He lets go of… well, his manly shit an’ lets his feminine side out. It’s a coping thing. Not easy to explain if ya don’t know him that well.”

Genesis nodded and dragged his eyes away. Cloud looked at ease in his white sundress and wedge sandals, face made up and everything. “I see…” He watched Cloud move gracefully through the different locals and tourists who had joined in, until he sat with Sephiroth and Zack at another table.

From what Genesis could see, Sephiroth had been in the process of cutting up Zack’s food for him, but Zack gleefully ran to Cloud’s side of the table to hug his legs before returning to the spot between the pair. Cloud said something, Sephiroth replied without looking up.

“Looks like business as usual,” Genesis said. “Except Cloud’s face isn’t attached to some part of Kunsel…”

Cid snorted and threw a look toward Vincent, who only hummed around his fork.

“Then you don’t know shit, Genesis,” was all Cid said to that.

\-------------------------------

Once the festivities had subsided and Cloud managed to have a moment to himself, he realized that Sephiroth had not returned from putting Zack to bed, even though Kunsel had followed him to the house, offering to help. Brushing off his skirt, Cloud got to his feet and bade Barret goodnight, leaving him to bring Denzel and Marlene back when they were ready.

Back at the house, Cloud searched all over for Sephiroth until he checked in on Zack. Sephiroth knelt beside his bed, asleep on his folded arms while Zack had curled up near the head of the bed.

Tiptoeing into the room, Cloud gently placed a hand on Sephiroth’s shoulder and shook him awake. Sephiroth jumped with a disoriented grunt and pushed Cloud away.

“What time is it?” he murmured, quiet as Zack snuffed and rolled over, his beloved Chocobo in hand.

“It’s late, I know that,” Cloud whispered. “I didn’t bring my phone with me.” He fluffed the skirt of his sundress and shrugged. “No pockets in this one.”

Sephiroth nodded and shuffled away from Zack’s bed, nearly falling forward with a hiss. He sat back on his heels and rubbed at his thighs. “I think my legs are asleep,” he said with a soft chuckle.

“Do you need a hand?”

“Perhaps two,” Sephiroth said. He took Cloud’s hands as they were offered, groaning softly as he stood up on unsteady legs. Stumbling forward, Cloud caught Sephiroth by his shoulders, gently pushing the bigger man to a better stance.

Looking up, Cloud felt his heart jump. Once again, Sephiroth was a hairsbreadth away from him, and the impulse to kiss him rang loudly in his mind. Trying to keep in mind that Sephiroth had rejected him earlier, Cloud took a step back to put some distance between the two of them. His hands slid down Sephiroth’s arms and to his hands again, his fingers cold and trembling; Sephiroth’s were very warm by comparison.

“Are you going to be alright?” asked Sephiroth. His thumbs smoothed over the back of Cloud’s hands soothingly.

Cloud pulled his hands back and rubbed his palms together. “Y-yeah… let’s get out of here. Don’t want to wake him up.”

Sephiroth nodded and staggered to the door as blood flow resumed in his legs. “After you,” he said, holding the door open as Cloud passed.

After the children’s door and been left with a sliver of light entering from the hall, Cloud walked with Sephiroth toward his room. A benefit to having such housing was that most people had their own space. Not all had their own en suite, but it was a better situation than what they had at home.

“Ah, this is me, then,” said Sephiroth, beginning to open his door. Cloud reached in front of him and placed his hand on the knob, pulling the door shut again. “Cloud?”

“Why do you have to leave?”

Sephiroth’s mouth flashed a brief smile with his confusion and he shook his head. “I thought you’d like to be rid of me for a while.”

“That was-“

“Before today?”

“Yes.”

Sephiroth sighed and opened his door again, bringing Cloud into the room with him, as he did not know who was still awake to overhear them. “Your timing is really awful. Did it really take the thought of me going away to have you consider me as an option?”

Cloud felt pinned down by the rightfully asked question. He grabbed the hem of his dress and twisted it in his hands. “I guess I was kind of taking it for granted that you were always there. I’m not even there that often for _my_ friends…”

“I have set a precedent for not leaving you alone. Which _is_ my fault, really.” Sephiroth folded his arms across his chest, but when Cloud looked up to him, Sephiroth’s gaze was on the floor. “Probably why Genesis pisses me off so much when he calls me your Housewife.”

“In your defense, you are surprisingly maternal,” Cloud said, a light smile on his lips. Sephiroth’s eyes snapped to him and his smile dropped. The material in Cloud’s hands wound tighter. “You’re protective of Zack. He’s going to be devastated when you leave.”

“I’ll tell him I’m looking for my real mother.”

“He’s not going to understand that.”

“I don’t know if I’d want to introduce Lucretia to him as a grandmother. Not until I talk to her.”

Cloud bit his lip. “I guess I can’t argue with that feeling. You have questions…” Ones that Vincent could not answer, ones that Hojo’s video diary had not answered themselves. Everything Sephiroth needed was personal – and Cloud did not blame him for wanting to learn about what kind of person she was. Vincent was an unreliable narrator, in that case.

“I don’t suppose you’d trade Genesis for me?”

Sephiroth dropped his arms and turned toward his bed. “We’ve been over this…”

“No, I know.” Cloud followed behind Sephiroth, stopping just short as Sephiroth pulled his shirt off over his head. A brief flash of pale skin and a glimpse of a pink line, about the breadth of a Buster sword’s blade had Cloud reaching out to touch Sephiroth before he jerked his hand away as if burned.

Sephiroth turned back around and sat on his bed. “Honestly, I need to be apart from you, too,” he said, seemingly unaware that Cloud had tried to touch his back. “This evening notwithstanding, I think I need to reassess how I feel about you. And us. If there’s an ‘us’ to feel… about.”

Cloud took a deep breath and stepped closer to Sephiroth. He reached a hand out, slowly, and cupped the side of Sephiroth’s face, fingers woven though his bangs, his thumb lightly kneading at Sephiroth’s temple. “How do you feel right now?” Cloud asked.

Sephiroth closed his eyes and leaned into Cloud’s hand. “When you kissed me, you caught me off guard… it made me angry. And elated.” He opened his eyes again. “But Kunsel…”

“I know.” Cloud put his free hand on Sephiroth’s jaw, the thumb of that hand touching Sephiroth’s bottom lip. “I feel like I was getting to really _see_ you, while with someone else, so I broke it off with him…”

Sephiroth took Cloud’s wrists and pulled his hands away from his face. “I told you, I don’t want you to regret choosing me.” He pushed Cloud’s hands together and kissed the backs of his fingers. He was shaking; Cloud could see him shuddering, straining. “I want to be loved, genuinely. And I need to know if what I feel… is real.”

Cloud furrowed his brow. “What do you-?”

“I mean, I need to know that I’m not just… extremely grateful to you. That I’ve been blindsided by your kindness and mistaking it for affection. I know that you have… _some_ love in your heart for me, maybe for the memory of who I was to you once…” Sephiroth looked up at him from where he sat. His eyes were searching Cloud’s for something, so Cloud simply nodded to him.

“Okay. But…” Cloud took a deep breath and moved closer to Sephiroth, standing between his knees. He cupped Sephiroth’s face in his hands again, and Sephiroth allowed him. Cloud rubbed his thumbs over Sephiroth’s cheekbones and listened to the long sigh that accompanied a slow, tired blink. “Do you think you might love me?”

Sephiroth ducked his head down and out of Cloud’s hands. “I... You became the focus of my anger, my sorrow, and my hope.” He looked back up again, but his eyes were unfocused, looking past Cloud. “That’s not exactly… fair, to you. You don’t really need me looming over you.”

Cloud groaned and let himself flop forward, trusting Sephiroth to catch him – and he did – falling into Sephiroth’s lap. Cloud took a moment to seat himself properly to buy himself a chance to think. He shifted, leaned his shoulder into Sephiroth’s chest and allowed himself a second of peace.

“I’ve stopped thinking of you as a menace. You’re not the same man you were five or even ten years ago.” Cloud looked up and squeezed Sephiroth’s mouth in one hand, mushing his lips into a funny shape. “You’re a mess.”

Sephiroth tried to frown and pulled his face out of Cloud’s grip to do so properly. “Thank you?”

Cloud snorted and tucked his head under Sephiroth’s jaw. “I’m a mess, too. You’re in good company.”

They spent the next few minutes in silence. Sephiroth had shifted his position to keep Cloud across his lap, with Cloud’s head still under his jaw. Cloud started to relax, able to hear Sephiroth’s steady heartbeat between his deep breaths.

“Can I stay here?” Cloud asked. “This is… kind of nice.”

“Are you sure that’s a wise decision? Or are you trying to convince me to postpone my trip?”

“No and no. It’s just that I don’t know if I can crawl back into bed with Kunsel.”

Sephiroth pulled Cloud away from his neck and looked at him. “What happened to you two? I thought you would …stay with him. At least a little longer than this.”

Cloud sighed. “So did I.” He lifted a hand and touched Sephiroth’s lips with his finger. “But, before you start blaming yourself, it’s really all me. I’ve just been…” Cloud trailed off for a moment while he thought. “Scared. That you’re right and we’re going to end up together. I mean, I ran away from home to _avoid_ settling down.”

“Then it wouldn’t have lasted with Kunsel, either, if that’s your fear.”

“I…” Cloud looked up at Sephiroth, who looked back at him with a calm, patient expression. “You’re right. I don’t know what I’m afraid of, then.”

“Commitment.”

Cloud snorted and curled a little closer to Sephiroth. “It’s probably way more complicated than that, but I’m fine with short answers for now.” He reached up and twined his fingers through Sephiroth’s long bangs. “There’s probably some guilt complex and depression mixed in there.”

“Post-traumatic stress disorder, superiority complex, grandiose delusions…”

Frowning, Cloud looked up at Sephiroth. “I never really thought I was-“

“I was talking about me,” Sephiroth replied. A wan smile graced his lips. “I was trying to relate that I have problems as well. _You’re_ not alone.”

Cloud’s eyes widened and his mouth fell slack. He never thought Sephiroth would really admit, out loud, what his problems were. “I thought you were keeping that to yourself.”

Sephiroth shrugged, and with the action, repositioned Cloud to sit up more in his lap. “I have a name for what’s wrong with me. There are still times, when my frustration goes unspoken, that I want to burn everything down around me, but I hold myself together, for you… for Zack. Genesis told me…”

Waiting, Cloud moved himself so he sat on Sephiroth’s knees, straddling his legs. He had a hand on either side of Sephiroth’s neck, giving him time to gather his thoughts. “Told you what?” Cloud prompted.

“Told me that Aerith wanted me to have something to live for.” Sephiroth’s head dropped down until his chin fell to his breastbone. “I never considered myself to be suicidal…”

“Suicidal actions aren’t always clear, Seph.” Cloud waited until Sephiroth looked back up to him. “Sometimes, it’s just not caring about yourself. It can be recklessness or just… giving up.” He pressed his forehead to Sephiroth’s and drew in a long breath. “It’s not always easy, but it can be overcome… and if I’m not alone, neither are you.”

“Thank you, Cloud.”

Cloud hummed softly and pressed his lips to Sephiroth’s forehead. He felt Sephiroth sigh and shift, winding his arms behind Cloud’s back until his ear pressed to Cloud’s chest. Then, he tipped back across the bed, Cloud nearly laying on Sephiroth’s face.

“Are you trying to smother yourself with me? I’m a little too lean for that,” Cloud said. He braced his hands on either side of Sephiroth’s head to make sure he had some air. “Seph?”

“’M fine.” Sephiroth rolled them to one side so Cloud fell onto the bed, still held in Sephiroth’s arms. “I’m tired, but I don’t know if I can sleep. My mind…”

“Won’t shut up?” Cloud combed away some of the silver that had fallen over Sephiroth’s face. “I get that. We can just… talk. If I can stay.”

Sephiroth frowned and pulled away from Cloud, sitting up on his bed. Cloud remained where he lay.

“You really want to stay?”

“It’s how we started out, isn’t it? I discovered you’re a very aggressive cuddler.” Cloud smiled a moment, fidgeting with the hem of his dress, pushing it back down to keep himself somewhat modest. Even if he might be entertaining thoughts of having Sephiroth rip it off of him…

“You’re miles away,” Sephiroth said, interrupting Cloud’s thoughts. “Are you sure you’re going to stay awake?”

“I was just…um…” Cloud’s face heated up and he sat up beside Sephiroth. “Maybe I should go?”

“Now who’s nervous?”

“I’m not nervous. I was just… thinking.”

Sephiroth’s lips curled into a smirk. It had only taken him a quick glance at Cloud to figure out what had darted through Cloud’s mind. “I see.”

Cloud huffed and covered his lap with both hands, hissing, “Don’t give me that smug look!” through his teeth. “There’s only enough blood to run one at a time!”

Sephiroth chuckled and leaned down; placing a light kiss on Cloud’s overheated cheek. “I think you have enough to entertain some sort of fantasy.”

Just as Cloud wound up a snappy comeback like “Oh yeah?!” Sephiroth touched his finger to his own lips and shushed him. “Do you hear that?” he asked, and stood before Cloud could focus long enough to listen.

What he heard as Sephiroth left the room and his door open: soft whimpers, followed closely by the sound of shuffled feet and sniffles. Cloud got up and chased after Sephiroth, discovering him kneeling beside a very awake and rather upset Zack, who dragged his stuffed Chocobo beside him on the floor.

“Shh, it’s okay. We’re here.”

 _We are…_ Cloud approached Zack and crouched beside him. “What’s wrong, baby? Bad dream?”

Zack whimpered and rubbed at his eyes, nodding.

“That’s not all,” murmured Sephiroth, plucking at Zack’s damp pajamas.

“Oh…” Cloud nodded. “Take him to the bathroom? I’ll go undress his bed and get him some dry clothes.”

Sephiroth nodded and lifted Zack without hesitation; as they headed for the bathroom, Cloud could still hear Sephiroth crooning soft reassurances to Zack. His own heart ached at the sound, and Cloud wondered if anyone had been as kind to him as a child that Sephiroth knew where to draw such caring from. As he stripped Zack’s bed and took the sheets down to the laundry room, a faint image of Aerith crossed his mind, then a memory of the video of Professor Gast and Ifalna.

“I see…” Cloud murmured into the quiet house. No one else was up, or if they were, they were playing at silence. He headed back upstairs once he started the machine to fill with water, fetching clean pajamas and underwear for Zack on his way. He discovered Sephiroth kneeling beside the tub, Zack’s damp sleepwear laid near the door while Zack sat quietly, as he was gently scrubbed clean with a washcloth.

“You’re doing very well, Zack,” Sephiroth murmured. Zack nodded and looked up at Cloud, and all at once, Cloud finally understood the “puppy” moniker Genesis had used in reference to Zack. Cloud did not think actual dogs could make such a sad-eyed expression that Zack was giving them, looking for all the world like he was guilty of some terrible crime.

Cloud squeezed himself in beside Sephiroth and cupped some water in his hand, scooping it over Zack’s head. “Zack, don’t look so down,” he said softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Zack nodded and asked for a hug and kiss from Cloud, poking at his own face when he was done.

“Of course.” Cloud leaned over, pressed a kiss to Zack’s cheek, and gave him a firm - if awkward – embrace over the side of the tub.. “You know your Daddy and Papa love you. It was just an accident.”

“Mmhmm…” Zack rubbed bathwater off his face and looked up, doleful blue eyes a little brighter after having the extra assurance from Cloud.

“Do you want to sleep with us tonight?” Sephiroth asked as he pulled Zack out of his quick bath and into a towel.

“Are you asking me or him?” Cloud sat back on his heels and watched Sephiroth roll Zack up in the large towel, turning their son into a burrito. He could not help but smile, seeing Zack light up a little more and nod vigorously. “I suppose we’re having a sleepover.”

Sephiroth nodded and rolled Zack around in the blanket, making the boy giggle. “I don’t think it’s what you had in mind, is it?”

“I didn’t-“

“Cloud, don’t kid yourself.”

Sighing, Cloud got to his feet and collected Zack’s soiled pajamas. “Fine, fine. Maybe I had thought of just getting over myself and sleeping with you. Maybe take the mystery out of… _you_ and just…”

“Have sex.”

Cloud groaned and nodded. “How did you make it sound… mundane?”

Sephiroth grunted as he got to his feet, Zack swaddled in his arms. “Because it seems to be something _you_ just do. It’s how you and Kunsel… met. I am not so _used_ to the activity.” Taking the clean clothes with him, Sephiroth carried Zack off to his room.

Cloud watched after him for a moment before he kicked off his shoes and carried on downstairs to throw Zack’s pajamas in the wash. He drummed his fingers on the top of the machine after he started it, allowing himself time to think before he rejoined Sephiroth and Zack.

 _He said he wanted a family… I hope he realizes he has one now…_ Cloud kicked off his heavy wedge sandals beside the dryer and waited while the washer ran, leaning against the wall. _I wish I wasn’t so afraid of myself…_ Cloud’s head had begun to ache. He had just wanted to get _Sephiroth,_ the idea of sleeping with the enemy, out of his system. Find some way to realize he could be intimate with the man and not hate himself in the morning.

“Why didn’t I just stick with Kunsel?” Cloud muttered. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and listened to the washing machine spin. “The fuck is wrong with me?”

Cloud let his face go and looked up toward the ceiling of the laundry room. Letting his eyes lose focus, Cloud tuned his senses into the other sounds of the house. He could pick out Sephiroth’s movement in his room, where he was undoubtedly tending to Zack. They were probably waiting for him to come back now, tucked into bed. A soft, indistinct murmur told Cloud that Sephiroth was speaking, but the washing machine drowned out the words.

 _Man, this is really where I could use Zack’s advice,_ Cloud thought, recalling the few times his old friend had reached through the Lifestream to talk to him. _But, you’re here now, aren’t you?_ The little boy they had adopted was a blessing, but Cloud was afraid for him. He wanted to give Zack everything – the kid deserved a stable home and at least one parent who was not afraid to love the other.

_Is that it, though? I’m afraid to love him? Or am I afraid of him loving me?_

“Gil for your thoughts.”

Cloud jumped out of his skin and turned toward the door, a hand on his chest. Sephiroth stood in the doorway, silhouetted by lights from the street bleeding through the windows. He had changed into his sleep pants and his hair draped over his shoulder in a loose braid. He looked exhausted and wary; as if  Cloud was an animal he was afraid of spooking.

The irony made Cloud laugh, deep in his throat as his heartbeat returned to normal. “Is Zack asleep already?” he asked, instead of allowing himself to feel embarrassed by how jumpy he acted.

“Not yet. He’s asking where you are, though. You’re not going to wait for the entire cycle to run, are you?”

Sighing, Cloud shook his head. “No, no… I’m just… thinking.”

Sephiroth approached slowly and raised his hands, palms out. “Cloud, I know you’re… concerned, about what a life with me would be like.”

“As if you’re the only problem.”

“What makes you think you’d be a problem?” Sephiroth asked.

Cloud shook his head. “I wasn’t going to stay with Kunsel forever. What if I can’t do that for you? Zack will…”

“Bounce back. I know he’s just a little boy, but I’m sure he’s resilient. He survived for however long before I found him, with nothing but a dog and the other homeless children,” Sephiroth said, his voice kept quiet despite the washer running beside him.

Cloud chose to deflect the conversation away from himself and Zack with a frown. “Why in Gaea’s name did you choose to come back here? What did Aerith show you that was so horrible? You never got specific. Just that… we kept fighting.”

Sephiroth sighed and offered his hand to Cloud. “Come upstairs with me, at least, and I’ll tell you. I’ll even tell Zack, if he can grasp what I say.”

Looking at Sephiroth’s hand, Cloud licked his lips before taking it. “Okay. But, all cards on the table.”

“Agreed.”

 

Upstairs, Cloud borrowed one of Sephiroth’s t-shirts to sleep in, the long black material hanging just at the tops of his thighs like a dress. It even smelled faintly of Sephiroth’s aftershave and conditioner from being in his suitcase. The scent made Cloud plot to sneak it away and hide it while Sephiroth was gone – it was not as if Sephiroth really _needed_ shirts…

Zack was happy to have his fathers on either side of him, both men seated against the headboard while he curled up between them with his (thankfully clean) Chocobo doll. Cloud stroked his hand through Zack’s hair as his eyelids began to droop while Sephiroth spoke.

“The dream I had, the outcome, if I had chosen to stay angry, was that we would fight forever,” Sephiroth explained. “An inhuman killing machine against an immortal man. The Planet would not let you die, Cloud, and Jenova would not let it win. I had been sewn back together so many times that nothing of me remained that was human… I saw nothing in that monster that was even remotely like me…” Sephiroth paused when he heard Zack gasp. He reached down and squeezed Zack’s hand. “But Aerith showed me a family I could have… a sweet little boy and an adoring husband. Things… I didn’t even remember really wanting. I had only wanted to know my mother, know myself.”

Cloud nodded and reached over Zack to lay his hand on Sephiroth’s shoulder. “So you chose us.”

“More than that,” Sephiroth replied. “It was a home, and understanding like I’d never felt before. I… we didn’t even have weapons.” He paused and brushed his thumb over his wet eyelashes. “It was a fantasy, focused on someone who had managed to make me feel alive again, even if we were enemies.”

Zack tapped Sephiroth’s knee for his attention. “I’m your baby?” he asked, little hands clumsily forming the words in exhaustion.

Sephiroth sniffed and smiled to him. “Yes. You were in my dreams. I wanted to be with you, and with Cloud,” he replied. “And you always will be, Zack. Even when you’re big like me.”

Zack smiled and squeezed his Chocobo closer to himself at Sephiroth’s assurance.

Cloud felt a lump in his throat at the tender way Sephiroth promised Zack that he would always be a father to him. He knew he wanted that kind of devotion from someone… and he knew that Sephiroth was already fixated on him…

“You know you really do have a family now, don’t you, Sephiroth?” Cloud asked. “We’re here… we might not be what you envisioned, but… we’re here.”

Sephiroth nodded and smiled. The bright green of his eyes became surrounded by pink as he teared up, overcome with emotion. “I know you are. You’ve done so much for me… if we never end up together, you’ve given me a lot already, and I’ll make it up to you, somehow.”

Reaching over again, this time with both arms, Cloud pulled Sephiroth into an embrace. Zack wiggled his way up between them, climbing on Sephiroth and Cloud’s thighs to be in the middle. Sephiroth chuckled at Zack wedging himself in between so he could hug the both of them.

“Seph, you don’t have to make anything up to me,” Cloud said. “Just keep going the way you are, okay? You’ve done a lot of hard work, and I’m really seeing it.”

With a nod, Sephiroth leaned in and kissed Cloud’s cheek. “I promise I will. For both of you. I…” Cloud could hear Sephiroth swallow before he finished his sentence. “I love you.”

Cloud’s mouth fell into a stunned “o” shape;  Sephiroth sat back with wide eyes and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Cloud composed himself first and smiled. “Are you sure? I thought you wanted to figure that out.”

“All cards on the table, right?” Sephiroth said; his breath was shaky, but he did not try to take back his declaration. “I’m not sure that I’m in love with you, certainly, but… Barrett’s right. You’re a hard man to _not_ love. And I do. I really do. If not as a future spouse, then as my friend and companion.” Sephiroth took a deep breath and looked Cloud right in the eyes. “I love you, Cloud. You and Zack gave me the family I’ve been looking for.”

Zack flopped himself back in Cloud’s lap. With a sleepy grin on his face, Zack spoke.

“Love ‘ou too, Daddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH. I am so sorry this took so long because it's just been... well, I posted the last chapter and started this one and slipped right into an inactive SLUDGE that was just... very hard to get myself out of. I thank you all for your patience and support while you waited - I know it can be scary if a hiatus shows up out of the blue like that - trust me, it was not planned! OTL
> 
> This chapter concludes the arc for Shadows of Things That Have Been! I hope you all enjoyed it and eagerly anticipate the next arc - Sephiroth goes looking for Lucrecia and to make good on his promise to be there for Zack and Cloud! Can he do it????? 
> 
> FIND OUT! (soon, I hope! ;w; ) Also, the 1-year anniversary (July 18th) of my publishing start for Of Things That May Be Only is coming up! I... dunno if I'll be doing anything for it (I'm going on vacation during that time, buuuuut, I'll have my laptop with me). 
> 
> BUT IT'S BEEN A YEAR ALREADY! Golly. I want to thank all of you who have left kudos, comments, cheered me on through my tumblr (drneverland.tumblr.com), anyone who kept refreshing to see if it had been updated, and most importantly, all of you who took a chance by just reading it. 
> 
> You guys made this work worth it and are 1000000% the reason it's still going. Love you guys! <3


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